
           Incident Along Fantasy Way 0330 hr 9/13/75
                            Air Mail

It is very late and I am tired 
But the letter I promised to mail sits there reproachfully
In its urgent AIR MAIL envelope.

It is very late and the street is empty.
The only movement is a great dark bird
Gliding below moonlit clouds.

I arrive at a mailbox marked specially for air mail.
The sound of the lid is loud in the stillness.  
Far in the sky the waiting bird hears,
And with a screeching cry plummets to earth,
Seizes the box in its talons,
And carries it off
Into the night.  


                                   Thomas G. Digby
                                   written 0330 hr  9/13/75
                                   entered 2120 hr  2/08/92
