I liked this poem because it tells the story of conscious dualism better than the post I wrote about the topic. I hope you enjoy it too. Carl Dennis is an amazing poet.
Mailing Gifts, December 21
by Carl Dennis
I wouldn’t be fretting about the extra minutes
The slow clerk at window three is making me wait
If I were more in harmony with the Christmas spirit
Prepared to feel for an hour the flow of fellowship
That a saint is prepared to feel all year.
After all, now that I’m close enough to listen in
Its clear he isn’t staging a private slowdown
To vex the management, as I thought at first
Or to punish his customers for waiting
Till Christmas week to send their gifts off
No. The problem appears to be his courtesy,
His refusal to rush his explanations
To stint even one of the options for shipping
If I were a saint, I would think of myself
As fortunate to be standing, just where I am
With a good view of the attention he’s paying
To the gray-haired wife and husband
Now informing him that the big box
They’ve heaved to the counter contains a tricycle
For their sensitive grandson Herbert,
A sweet-tempered five-year-old, but sickly
Who could use more exercise in the sun
To watch the clerk behaving as if these two
Were his only customers of the day
Would suggest to me, if I were a saint,
That he’s one of the wise men,
Confident that the dispensation of time
Has been set aside for one more generous
But to me, as I am, he seems oblivious
Unaware he’s an accomplice in a robbery
That leaves me without the leisure I’ve promised others
A clerk without common sense now increasing my loss
By accepting the photograph of the boy
That the couple hands him and holding it up
To the light to study it. But if I were a saint
I’d feel blessed to witness his sober appreciation
And I might decide to embrace his example
Loyal for life to a modest master
Who’d never suppose he had a disciple
Never presume he taught me anything
Also published on Medium.
