A Remembered Summons
By Angusfolklore
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Post took longer to arrive in those
black-and-white days decades ago.
The Royal Mail had to fight through
packs of wolves across the
'Here Be Dragons' landscape.
A month or more for delivery
was not uncommon,
leaving the recipient half crazed
with anticipation,
albeit letters came twice a day.
My dark letter showed up unbidden
eight days after Christmas.
The smiling postman wondered what
was so important that it had to be
signed for at our humble house,
more used to junk mail and sad
second class demands.
When he left (still dark at 7.30),
I opened it and the blood
drained from my winter face.
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Comments
ah, bad news, a summons to
ah, bad news, a summons to hell, ah, well, black and white days are in the past.
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It seems incredible now that
It seems incredible now that we got two posts a day. And before that, you could send a letter in the morning, it would be delivered in the lunch time post, and your invitee would come round for tea at three o'clock. So I've been told.
The 1970s were a very strange time. It's only looking back that you realise how very odd they were. When I see old British films from the time, it still seems very much like a post-war Britain, despite the 'swinging' sixties. A lot of stuff changed, but a lot didn't.
Anyway - I really liked your poem! The ambiguity of the last line (and the title) works very well - we are very intrigued at the nature of this summons.
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