I have a fistful of postcards in search of a letterbox.

Today we’re in San Francisco, heavy with rich coffee and notes to friends, and I’m searching for a blue repository for our Bay Area greetings.

Our trip last month to Chicago left me in search of a mailbox, and I couldn’t tell if the postbox was bonafide with its garish graffiti.

The box was covered in posters and spray paint: was it a true letterbox?

Today–In the conservative Financial District of San Francisco–I spy an unadorned receptacle for my greetings.

Unlike Chicago, this one is decorated with shoes.

One shoe is tucked under a letterbox leg, and the other sits at the top, greeting visitors with a black bow. 

I whack up my ginger and stuff the cards into the…shoebox.

I hope the owner isn’t tucked inside.

17 September 2017

San Francisco

#nativescience

#nativeamericanwriter