Posting a letter yesterday,
On my way
To the pub,
I pondered on this red survivor of a vanishing age.

People flip the page
On devices unknown
In my youth.
Wrapped up in their phone
Do they ponder on the age-old truth
That all fades away, as the vehicles that wiz so fast
By this survivor from the past?

I remember a time when the postman brought more than junk mail.
Now when the email fails
We are all at sea,,
While the luddite in me
Yearns for letters and the feel
Of something real.