Return to Sender
by Antonia Clark

Once he was a fence, with a prominent Keep Out sign,
and I was the hole the boys peeked through.

Once he was a street with a clear destination
and I was the corner that forced him to turn left.

Once he was a door, unlatched on a windy night.
and I was the rusty hinge that drove everyone crazy.

If he were a package stamped Occupant Unknown,
I'd bribe the mailman to make me his return address.

Copyright 2023 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.