Walnut Girl Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

The Postie came,
he limped along
the street, up from
the beachfront.

The brown that bit him
he had killed but
some bad venom
had destroyed
soft tissue in
the ankle region.
He now sings out,
when stepping
over the habitat
'Oh, snakes alive',
so far he has been lucky
in our lucky country.

Today he handed me,
an envelope, all blue.
It came from overseas
sent by a poetesse
who is a veritable bundle
of pleasant sunshine
you know the type (?) .

Inside the card, there was
a photograph of two,
a strapping boy
and posing with him
was his mother.

I am still searching for the
proper adjective
that would describe
her adequately.
Will let you know
when that time comes
and words like lovely
and whatever else
can be replaced
to set the record straight.