The Box

The Box

the box is dark mahogany
with a little girl's face
carved upon the lid

just inside
there are so many
strange little treasures

an empty snail shell
about the size of a silver dollar
and dark gray with beige spots

half of an orange comb
with half the tines broken off
covered in dust and dirt

a pressed sunflower
dead and magled
but still hopeful

an opaque red lighter
with no fluid left at all
that makes sparks when lit

a little red-and-white checkered handkercheif
wrapped around a bottle of liquer
an empty bottle

a glass jar filled with origami stars
each star with a wish written on the inside
soon to be only ashes

a sharp metal rose
with a strong man-made scent
and grime at the base of the stem

an old and grimy ipod
filled with songs of every feeling and emotion
not a single byte left

a dark gray cell phone
with uncalled numbers
covered in scratches and chips

a pair of faded black converse allstars
the soles nearly entirely worn through
the sides and toes entirely covered in writing

a hanging basket
dark green and filled with soil
covered in special rocks

a cylindrical cat toy
stuffed with catnip
and peppered with tiny claw-marks

a big hole-filled rock
half covered in moss
half bleached by artificial light

a filthy cage
with blue bars for sides
and a gray tub for a bottom

a little stuffed rabbit
once white but now a light gray color
the nose halfway rubbed off

fifty-two decks of playing cards
each unique and indivinual
two-tousand-seven-hundred-and-four cards in all

a book of piano music
complicated classical music
played over and over

piles of picture books
each telling an unforgettable story
with livid illustrations

stacks of chapter books
each very old and well-read
my written before this age

several classic movies
from a different generation
some on DVD but most on VHS

hundreds of magazine clippings
of everything imaginable
all taped together

two dresses
one of tiny blue flowers
the other of bright yellow ones

two journals
each filled with stories on the inside
and words on the outside

a third journal
the outside plain leather
inside the words of one who is crazy

two rings
one of silver and turquise
the other of silver flowers and swirls

a large bedsheet
with jungle print
and a blue border

two queen-sized quilts
made of hundreds of cloth bits
stitched together long ago

a smaller patchwork quilt
only big enough for a cradle
soft and thin

the box is shut
so much left unseen
and so much more to be added