(inspired by David L. Wilson’s poem)<\/p>\n
Boxes<\/p>\n
I have known several<\/p>\n
My Dad was the first<\/p>\n
All neatly encased when I got there<\/p>\n
The work already done<\/p>\n
I lifted him up<\/p>\n
We all did<\/p>\n
He was light<\/p>\n
Hard to imagine<\/p>\n
A whole life in one small box<\/p>\n
Carefully sealed<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Later he would sit next to an American flag<\/p>\n
Encased with his medals<\/p>\n
A veteran\u00a0with honors<\/p>\n
But not heroism<\/p>\n
Just a lifetime of being a hero<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Next would be Mom<\/p>\n
I drove her home myself<\/p>\n
Feeling like I should drive slowly<\/p>\n
No speeding<\/p>\n
No radio<\/p>\n
I had to be respectful<\/p>\n
Worried that she might fall on the floor<\/p>\n
Even in death I worried about her<\/p>\n
It was hard to stop<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
She would sit next to my Dad<\/p>\n
High on a bookshelf<\/p>\n
Where the cats wouldn’t knock them<\/p>\n
And the kids wouldn’t pull them down<\/p>\n
The boxes were covered<\/p>\n
With Grandma’s embroidery<\/p>\n
I would ceremoniously wash<\/p>\n
Every few weeks<\/p>\n
Dusting the shelf and thinking of them<\/p>\n
Wondering how they were<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Stacie was like an anomaly<\/p>\n
Passed around as we discussed death<\/p>\n
Her death sudden and unsettling<\/p>\n
She was heavy<\/p>\n
much heavier<\/p>\n
Her bones still strong and full<\/p>\n
When she passed.<\/p>\n
She too found a shelf<\/p>\n
And a place.<\/p>\n
I would visit sometimes<\/p>\n
And wish I could change things<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Perhaps scattering would come<\/p>\n
One day for all of them<\/p>\n
The boxes, small complex<\/p>\n
The remnants of a whole life<\/p>\n
Unceremoniously transformed to ash<\/p>\n
And memories<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Memories I would write about<\/p>\n
Memories collected<\/p>\n
That would one day be a box<\/p>\n
Someone will toss in the trash<\/p>\n
After I am placed on a shelf<\/p>\n
Away from cats and kids<\/p>\n
Collecting dust.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
(inspired by David L. Wilson’s poem) Boxes I have known several My Dad was the first All neatly encased when I got there The work already done I lifted him up We all did He was light Hard to imagine A whole life in one…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":31,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7438","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7438","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/31"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7438"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7438\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7801,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7438\/revisions\/7801"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7438"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7438"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7438"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}