Canto CXIV

While running back and forward from the flat
for the vital documents we left behind
I see the postman trip up and take flight

then crash down hard onto a gravel drive.
Like Spiderman spotting a kid in peril
while on his way to his appointed fight

with Doctor Octopus, I do not not fail
to help a public servant in distress,
offer a soft palm to a fellow prole

then gather up his pile of dropped letters.
We stand within the well maintained front yard
of a house beyond the means of men like us,

we exchange Christmas greetings, head onward
on our respective chores and spare no mind
to look back at the property we trespassed

for telling twitches of Venetian blinds.

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