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 © 2021 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.