Skip to content

Alike

January 24, 2015

image

The clerk at the post office has my uncle’s voice.
I heft my packages onto the counter, hunt in my purse for my wallet.
“Priority?” He says this, like my uncle, using as few words as possible.
I am startled. Every time I am startled.
Why is my uncle at my post office, 1868 miles from his home on the side of the mountain?
I keep meaning to ask the clerk where he is from. Meaning to and not doing.
Maybe they are sharing it.
Only one can use it at a time.
Small sentences.
Long pauses.
Carefully chosen words.
Teaching quietly.

image

Advertisements
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: