ode to fedex

More of a limerick than a poem, written with frozen hands and just for fun.

Hanging out the window,
In the middle of winter,
Waiting again for FedEx,

My coffee grows cold,
Though only 10 minutes old,
Because I need to sign at the X,

I’ve requested they call,
Every month now since fall,
But they’d rather just leave a slip,

So on the cold sill,
I lean out here still,
A lookout for the ship.

Advertisements

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