three boxes came today to a cold house and stood there
set slightly apart from all the other stuff --- waiting
as all boxes do
to be moved on
three boxes look sad and lonely
almost apologetically taking up space on my kitchen floor
packed in a warm house by caring hands but now --- how reduced...
hardly able to meet my gaze,
they flinch under the icy condensation of my breath
three boxes that were once five,
standing up proud and tall,
a mini platoon for a battle call,
all straight lines --- tied up with lace and string in a sailor's knot but now bedraggled and battered,
with new shiny tape and the name of the courier plastered all about,
covering deep wounds --- holding their guts in...