the blue box full of yesterdays

it's a steel

box,

with a slight sheen

of azure blue.

i think it's steel, 

or a metal of some sort,

fireproof

according to the life

insurance

man who

gifted it to me once

i signed up

for the million dollar

policy.

but i cashed that in a long

time ago

after seven years of premiums.

cashed it in

for 671 bucks.

but the box is full of pictures

now,

childhood photos,

a birth certificate,

car titles,

banking information,

a list of names

and numbers,

once friends, now strangers.

the deceased are side by side,

stuck together

until the end of time.

there's 

a few marriage certificates

in there too,

folded up

and yellowed,

and an equal

number of divorce

decrees as well.

a coin from Mexico rattles

around

with a Saint Christopher's medal

and a key

to my mother's house.

there's a combination lock

on the front

that suggests i should lock it,

but i don't.