Foolish Fortune

The final jobs were finished yesterday,
resurfacing the bulk in front of me.
They hung the entry lights and the display
of house address and mostly, finally,
the box where mail is put for them and me.
Of course they chose all wrong: house numbers hard
to read; the box too high; lights stupidly
installed. But bad choice means their glare is barred.

(Huitain)

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