four sides. a lid to tape closed.
how easily things can be gathered
and placed inside.
enough room for so much.
books
and things. pictures, letters.
some yours, some belonging
to others who left
their possessions behind.
it's hard to decide what comes
with you
what you toss aside.
boxes
often decide our lives.
we mark
them
as to where they go when
they arrive.
some we open while others
we leave them closed.
tucked up in some attic,
or down the steps to a cellar
where cobwebs grow,
never to be perused,
the memories we want
to hide.
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