There’s a story behind this ole box.
Clippings and photos of days gone by,
Once housed in it’s ghostly shadows and ply…
To Whom was this box lovingly built…
Was it in hope or out of guilt?
Roughly sawn, hammered and chisled, lovingly warmed
by old wax rubbings.
Hand hewn for sure, by some Caring heart,
to make a place for some past secrets of memories
to guard.
Tears and laughter, once held there
Now barren and dusty with smells of old…
There’s a story there… In this ole Box.
Diane Rodriguez
F.A. Moore
I am so fond of boxes, as many others must be. If they don’t have a story, they want one. Your poem evokes memories.
Diane Rodriguez
Thanks Fran, I highly regard your input.
Leena Hedman
Melancholic and nostalgic, like a yellowed piece of delicate lace…
Diane Rodriguez
Thanks Leena, I agree and So appreciate your comments and input.