Cardboard remnants
of past lives,
Strewed in hallways
of crowded sentiments.
Reluctant,
yet expectant
of earned places
to be found,
she caresses the cellulose caskets
of long ago purchases,
and emporer thumbs down it all.
Except, maybe one.
Maybe, that one,
Because,
that one,
was, still,
a really good box.
I completely get this. And as
I completely get this. And as always you hit the mark with shrewd precision and superior wit. Like my beloved boxes, this is a keeper.
Thanks
I even go out an buy really good boxes