Return to Sender

Sitting at my window,
I have seen a scene:
a sun lowered and pulling
my sight behind it,
everything orangeing,
shadowing to grays and blacks.

And with the following black,
I have just finished thinking;
alrights and obscurities,
whats, hows, and thatsfines,
lists and trifles, fights and answers,
laughings and smilings too.

Having just finished thinking,
I'm finished for the night. Ink
drying, I am ready to be sent to
tomorrow. Climbing into my
envelope I fold myself, creasing
at the neck and knees.

The warmth and privilege of
this envelope will not go unnoticed.
The travels I'll encounter
through the course of the night
will not be remembered come dawn.
But at least I'll arrive safely.