Tuesday, December 11, 2012

12-11-12 The Cubes

Brown boxes
not "brown paper packages tied up with strings"
These cubes are the dreaded ones
the ones that keep popping into the conversations
"Don't forget to go get them"
"I've already started"
"Make sure that you use lots of tape!"

They will empty my room
my little cove
everything will disappear
the walls will be barren
the shelves empty
the desk uncluttered
the bed lacking blankets
the brown boxes will absorb 
everything

Everything will be gone
Everyone will be gone
But the echoes of the laughter 
the faint glowing of our smiles
and our wild spirits 
Will still dance among the trees 
Float through the hallways
waiting 
waiting
for it to begin again


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