As the crone sat dreaming beside the summer sea

Her dreams were all of long ago

the tiny country store, grain elevators, the old gas pump, the post box

where Jenny Wren lived in summer.

The Postmaster, whose sign said “Bird in Residence, do not disturb.”

Inside the warm stove where local farmers came to gather mail, tell stories

and fill the air with pipe smoke

while the child hidden behind the counter stored their tales. Fran