Packing Tape and Brown Boxes
Packing Tape and Brown Boxes
by Laura Summerville Reed
Get that light and lock the door
It’s time to leave
like so many times before
An entire life reduced to an easy measure
but we must clearly mark our treasure
Packed somewhere in all these boxes
I feel I've wrapped a breathing thing
It lacks the air and light to thrive
It fears the night’s withering
more than the days of change gone by
It leaves the flesh
To gather the bones
To dig them up from a never final resting place
It wraps them in shades of grey and sepia
Static friction sparks a need to vivify
Too many days at the end of a limb
sparks a need to fly
It’s time to leave
so get that light and lock the door
Hurry now, this thing has got to breathe or it will die.
©LSR 2011