My Box

What do you see?

Do you see me?

I once made a box

Quiet on the outside, vibrant within.

I didn’t make a lid

Because you should see both—

Do you?

Me? What you see?

No. Listen. Wait.

The first streams of white light in the morning

Armrests

Remembering

            What detail will stick? What did I forget?

Smelling new seasons

Laughing

Hugging

            Time only lets me look back. Do I want to see forward?

Watching Murphy sleep

Getting chills from dry heat

            Absorbed in nothing. Why did I have that dream?

The bathroom mirror

Wet nose nudges

Silence

A breeze

            We have a connection, but how? Why?

Candles, fireplaces, and bonfires

Shadows on the bottom of the pool

            What do I miss when I don’t take time to see?

Blankets

Blue skies and branches

A purring cat

Carefree

            Can I stay here? Can I feel this forever?

Stars on the beach

Fuzzy wuzzies

Garden hoses

Hot tea

            I’m comfortable here. Will you sit with me?

So many people know me.

How many people know me?

Where should I put my box

For you to see

Me.