the secret

the box arrives
on the sunlit porch.
taped
and marked with date
and my name. there is
no name
as to who sent it.
I take it inside.
hold it in
the air.
shake it.
it's light and soundless.
it could be anything.
it could be
nothing.
there's no way to tell
where it's
from, but it's here
with my name
on it.
I stare at the box
all day wondering what
it is, who
sent it. but
I can wait to know.
what's the rush.