Hand-Painted Mailbox

A prose poem

One winter, a group of teens went racing
down a country road with a baseball bat and left

a series of metal carcasses
in the snow. One was dark blue

with a large crescent moon covering
half, little kid hand-shaped stars

covering the rest. Its house was dead and empty.

I carried the shape home, dug
through the frozen earth

and planted it there. Prayed
for another family of four.

Twin daughters. The months
were long and slow.

Lily of the Valley rose
in the Spring.

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About mckenzielynntozan

McKenzie Lynn Tozan lives and writes in Indiana, where she works as a virtual assistant, editor, and freelance writer via her self-started business, MLT Creative. She received her MFA in Poetry from Western Michigan University, where she worked as the Layout and Design Editor for New Issues Poetry and Prose and as an Assistant Poetry Editor for Third Coast. She previously completed her B.S. in Secondary English Education and B.A. in English, with a Concentration in Writing, at Indiana University South Bend, where she worked as the Managing Editor for 42 Miles Press. Her poems have appeared in Rogue Agent, Whale Road Review, the James Franco Review, Emerge Literary Journal, Encore Magazine, Thank You for Swallowing, The Spooklet, Sleet Magazine, and Analecta, among others; and her book reviews and essays have appeared on The Rumpus and Motherly. When not writing, she enjoys art and music, and the simple mathematics of being a wife of one, a mama of two, and a cat-mom of three. For more, visit www.mckenzielynntozan.com. View all posts by mckenzielynntozan

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