Old Sensations

When I was a child

One of my favorite smells

Was our old post office

It was lined with

Row after row of little metal mail boxes

They looked like fancy little houses

With small glass windows

You could peak inside

To see if there was any mail

And open the door with a little key

The Post Office also had

A set of steps

Leading in and out

One of my biggest thrills

Was to climb to the top of those steps

Swing open the large glass door

Feel the coolness of conditioned air

Blowing in my face and

Breathe in the spectacular aroma

Of old metal mail boxes laced with

Scents of paper

And glue from the stamps

Decades later the sight of

A small antique mailbox can bring

Those memories back to life

And fill my mind with sensations

Wafting in

Of smells from long ago

E.A. Fussell


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