Claudia,
the mail lady,
with the crooked smile
that suggests
I am calling her
by the wrong name.
Hair in a ponytail,
blue shirt,
blue pants,
black shoes.
I see her
almost
every
damn
day.
She walks a lot
and it shows
when she
wears her short
blue shorts.
She walks fast
and it shows
because she
is gone so quickly.
Countless days,
we have
said hello,
thank you,
and goodbye.
I
call
her
Claudia,
despite
the crooked smile
that suggests
another name.