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Ode to the Post

Ode to the Post
When I was just a little girl
In a long and lonely day,
I looked forward to the mail
When the Post would come my way.
I would even cut and paste
Its cartoons in a special book,
So that when I got older,
I’d open it and take a look
At what, back then, tickled me
In my youthful, salad days.
Seems they are the very same things
Where now an old lady plays.
And so, the Post arrives once more
After all these growing-up years.
Now, I read it to my grandkids,
And we laugh ’till it brings us to tears.

Barb Orgar
Middleport, New York