Hey You There in The Box
Boxes and more boxes
I know you are hidden there some place.
Since you left I have looked and looked
I feared finding you.
And feared not finding you!
Are there letters from me that tell you of my love?
Are there secrets to be reveled?
Is there the black leather wallet
in which you carried my school newspaper photo
in there someplace?
Will I still find there all the key birthdays
for the Laricks and Staceys?
And in your journal can I visit you at 16?
And will there be fraternity tasseled dance programs
and notes about Jay, Walt and Bones?
Do you know more than you shared?
And now with only the thought of you to censor.
I look into your boxes and boxes.
Grandchildren and old college roommates are mixed
as mixed as your life.
Sentimental greeting cards from the 40s
The ones you bought at Noble Road five and dime.
And I want to read your commencement address
for Collingwood High School and
1889 account books from long gone accounts.
And a handwritten note advising me that I don’t have to feel better to act as if I do.
Did you ever know me?
Will that be revealed in the boxes?
Did I ever know you?
Will I know you better if a journal about trips to
see uncle Harry and Aunt Helen
and will there be notes from boys in your history class
Is that in the mystery box?
Let us have a look together.
That is what mothers and daughters do