(x = space)
x
x
Boxen
x
After filling boxes
Moving boxes,
Filling them again
Trying to keep empty boxes
In one place,
Filled boxes in another
x
Then realizing there’s too
Little space for all
The boxes and myself,
I pause
x
This isn’t any way to live
But I’m not planning (and not
moving boxes)
For a lifestyle,
Though it’s true my life
Has been in containers and
In stacks on shelves
Until it all came here
x
Where without office
Space (or shelves),
Everything got bigger
As in more in the way
x
So I’ve tried to push things
Near the door to show
Myself they’re on the way
Out
Even though
Except for the idle offer,
No one is showing I know of
x
Which makes me sigh
Thank goodness for
The ceilings;
They’re cracking and they’re peeling
But they are up
High
x
And I am thankful
For the space above,
The tall windows I can
See through yet
And in that slightly higher air
Envision
Many things,
Among them
Boxes being gone
x
C L Couch
x
x
Boxen is the world Jack Lewis and his brother Warnie imagined when they were children.
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Photo by Guillaume Bolduc on Unsplash
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September 27, 2020 at 5:28 pm
We all have so much of our lives in boxes, and we keep getting bigger and more boxes in which to store our lives. But the only box that will come with us out of this world will be the one we’re buried in!
I have them too, an abundance of boxes. I like that, “in that slightly higher air / envision / many things / among them / boxes being gone. Ridding ourselves of these burdens opens space for new things to bloom. Love this, Christopher. 🙂