The Box

The Box
Rusty LaGrange, High Desert Branch

The image is quite clear,
To grasp and hold on tight,
a ragged cuddle dog
to get me through the night.

I hear my child’s fear,
Her whimpers in the night,
a doll with yarn of gold
to get her through the fright.

We huddle round a box
and open with delight,
to see once more our tears
appear in memory’s light.

We grasp and hug our toys
and give them one more squeeze
before we shut the lid
and release our histories.

 

“The Box” previously appeared in The Inkslinger (May 2016),
the newsletter of the High Desert Branch.