Return to Sender
Each human life
Is an elaborate letter
Sent when the dead
Were still alive
Marked undeliverable
Upon arrival
And sent back
Against the current of mail
Trodden all over
In blue stamps
Of an equine design
Then tossed down
By a careless servant
Onto the white cloth
Littered with breadcrumbs
Big enough to cast shadows
To be read over breakfast
By the melancholy queen
With great interest
Though it was she
Who wrote it