Incident Along Fantasy Way 0330 hr 9/13/75 Air Mail It is very late and I am tired But the letter I promised to mail sits there reproachfully In its urgent AIR MAIL envelope. It is very late and the street is empty. The only movement is a great dark bird Gliding below moonlit clouds. I arrive at a mailbox marked specially for air mail. The sound of the lid is loud in the stillness. Far in the sky the waiting bird hears, And with a screeching cry plummets to earth, Seizes the box in its talons, And carries it off Into the night. Thomas G. Digby written 0330 hr 9/13/75 entered 2120 hr 2/08/92