Viewing Postal Patrons from My Car

A heavy, sad feeling comes over me 
As I watch from the comfort of my car.
The snow falls quietly and gently on the sidewalk
Big, happy, fat white flakes of snow.
The lobby of the local post office
is lit by bright fluorescent lights.
I see a mother and daughter walk in
They are hatless, gloveless, shoes thin as moccasins;
Following comes the widow of my old English professor.
She looks sad and forlorn; her eyes looking
Pleading and lost, even after all these years.
With much haste comes a business man
Dressed in warm coat and leather gloves
Concealing his important papers before they get too wet.
A young man scurries past, always in a hurry
Head down, looking neither left or right, just hurry.
Time slips by, the snow keeps falling.
I watch them come and go, a day in many lives.
The snow keeps falling; it is soft, yet heavy enough to erase,
To erase those whom I’ve seen; erasing them into oblivion
It covers their tracks as though they never were;
As though each patron happy, sad, excited or cold had never been,
Covering their tracks as though they had
never existed at all.

copyright 2012 S. Olsen