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.






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