Il Postino di Vicenza
Mailman in Italy stashed half-ton of
mail in his garage, postal police say.
– AP January 29, 2018
Father, I’m going to miss the smell of fresh pasticcio
Mrs. Toniolo makes, and Mr. Zanella’s homemade wine,
and Mrs. Rossato’s polenta—she grinds the corn herself,
you know, Father. And Mrs. Dalla Vecchia’s daughter,
the woman whose singing dappled my heart like the sun
on the Golfo di Napoli. I’m going to miss everyone.
I never completed my route on time, Father,
but always I finished with a comfortable stomach
and a full heart. The Postmaster: every day
he weighed the mail going out and coming in and
moved our routes around by weight. The more
I brought in, the more customers I could lose
to another carrier. I would lose my friends. Father,
they loved me.
Glint Literary Journal 