The Post Office Poem by neeta nigam

Series of people from one continent to another,
What lies in between a string of letter uncover,

When I’m awake and miss my village from far,
What brings me close a smell of stamp like a dart?

When I wait become anxious someone does his best,
A prompt action passes step by step and we rest,

Who could be you, I know you not,
Still you rush with unknown’s thought,

Series of people from one continent to another,
What lies in between a string of letter uncover,