RETURN TO SENDER

The dying daffodil-colored sticker  
yells in all capitals. Just a statement,  
no explanation for why your annual  
personal Christmas message has wasted   
forty-six cents and ten minutes of thought.  


I prefer the red stamp, finger pointing  
as if scolding your lack of postage or  
your recipient’s unexplained absence.  
A postal worker failed to deliver  
your message—but he saw your handwriting  
and tried to decide what to do, tried to  
find your aunt who could be alive or dead.


That damn yellow sticker does not lay blame,  
doesn’t tell why you’ve been lost to me.  

Feedback: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/4ahei6/we_finally_chose_cable/ https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/47haaf/ongoing_seduction/