Courier
Delivering packages—
I see names, not
always faces, but you,
I know your name
too well, your face in my
mind a ceaseless rain.
I knock on your door—
your dog barks,
wags his tail
when he sees me
through the window. I do
not stay for a signature.
I walk briskly
to my van and drive
to my next ping,
somewhere deep in
the city, another box
with a stranger’s name
on a different, faceless porch.