I have always loved receiving mail – the real kind,  written by a friend, stamped and addressed and, after journeying across the country or across the world, or even just across the town, arriving in my letter box.

These days I don’t receive (or send) a lot – so many rapid means of communication, and so many competing commitments and distractions.  But, every now and then a real live letter arrives in my mail box and, when it does, it makes me smile.

My gorgeous friend Jan sent me such a letter last week. A ‘thinking of you’ type letter which was just what I needed in the midst of a downish kind of day.

That made me think of this poem I wrote a while back and, because it’s poetry month, I’m sharing it here, in honour of Jan.

Mail

When Mum was little

people wrote letters

to each other

to say hello

or share their news

or say happy birthday.

Letters were delivered

by the postman

days or even weeks

after they were written.

Nowadays

people send

texts or emails

that come straight away

and the postie

mostly just brings bills.

(Sally Murphy, 2015)