The Mailbox


by Wayne E. Hastings
S o there was this real old man lived on a farm half way up the hill, musta been 90 yrs old, Old and bent, 'walked with an old bent stick for a cane.

Across the road from his old farmstead hangin' on a branch of an ancient tree was an old steel mailbox.

Well every year the traffic got heavier and faster until one day the inevitable happened and the old man was hit by a speeding yuppie. He was the last of his clan so the home place was sold off and his house and barn raped of 100 years worth of treasures. Well one day when the ForSale sign was comin' down that old branch mysteriously fell to the ground. I picked up that old time mailbox, outlawed by some postoffices, gave her shot of primer and hung her in front of my road. I printed 391 on her end with the rollup flag. Well I guess the mail man liked her for not bein the sameold front loader as everybody else had, for low and behold he started puttin' mail in her. Been ten years since that old man died maybe 15.

She's a little rusty but like everything else around me she has character. Shes old iron.

Wayne E. Hastings
B/1/501: Vietnam 1969-'70