the box
there is a box
in my closet
high on a shelf
back in a corner
imprisoned in cobwebs
and a layer of dust
it is filled with you
in pictures and paper scraps
a watch a pin
a yellow shred of sweater
condolence cards and shells
dried spots of tears
a scoresheet from Scrabble
one day i will pass this box along
to someone who was too young
when you left
and you will live on
in another closet
back in a corner
high on shelf
beneath a new layer of dust
4 thoughts on "the box"
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Very poignant. Especially like the list of items in the second stanza.
bittersweet
the inspiration for
a lot of what I’m writing this year
in “Letters To The Dead”,
comes from an old reebok
shoe box with the word
METAPHORS ™ on the side.
it was several days after
i brushed off the dust
and started going through
letters, postcards, & pictures
i realized the aptness
of the box my mom had used.
i hope, like you passing along
your box to the young, my letters
will be passed along.
thanks for your poem.
glad i’m not the only one
rummaging through “the box”
thank you so much all of you ?