you know that it’s noon in a small Southern town
by the sound of the mail truck lurching along
Joe’s always there at noon on the dot
except if today’s the last Wednesday this month
then the mail runs just a little bit late
‘cause you know the Kiwanis club meeting’s on Tuesday
and Joe never misses
you know how he is
and Carol your neighbor walks out to the street
she’s always dressed as if it might snow
comes from somewhere up north you’ve been told
Massachusetts maybe
Boston perhaps
and you don’t really know if Carol’s her name
but her red hair is curled and her green shirt is flannel
she looks like a Carol to you anyway
you hang back on the porch as the mail truck lurches
Carol sees you and waves
she reaches inside
the mailbox swallows her arm like a cobra
you give her a smile that is vacant
all-purpose
and nothing at all like the smile you give Joanie
who walks by just then with Charlotte her corgi
she stops and you chat
Joanie comes from the South
Joanie gets warm-eyed lip-parted grins
and the mail truck goes lurching away down the road
Joe comes at noon like clockwork most days
but Carol has come from some place where it snows
and might as well come from a whole ‘nother world
she wears flannel year ‘round
pahks her cah in the yahd
war doesn’t end if your side doesn’t win
and you scratch Charlotte’s ears
and say who’s a good girl.