No Return Mail

.He is he                       
in the Post Office
standing        
by his case 
                There is no place to hide
from plague
and war

there are letters
magazines
voices                             There are crickets
                                                    in and out of the room
                                            water dripping

He throws the mail—
sorting
 standing
                    lying on his back

His heart beats hard
thinking how
           a birth emphasizes
            the nearness
             of death

He walks
           searching slots
paper
boxes

The letters cover his face
the magazines weigh
on his chest
deeper
harder
still throwing 
            Sobrato Drive
         Etter Court
                                              Jeffrey Way            The years it took
                                                 for his trees to grow                       the time
                                             from seedling
                                     to pulp
express mail
certified mail
registered mail
special delivery
parcels          
C.O.D.       
The weight crushes him
into
the mattress
He scratches
      at the windows
        the folding earth                                                               birds soaring
in the dew-                                                     
strewn night                                         

from beneath                                                                             
the covers                                                                      
                                              afraid now
to dream
                                                                   in fleeting life

He sits up  
                        vertical

refusing