Sunday, April 23, 2017
The Small Box
Old was she but fairly chipper.
She led me on a tour of her attic.
"Just ancient junk!"
In tangles and jumbles and piles.
Innumerable newspapers and magazines,
On extremely stuffed, large floral,
furniture. Atop all that, arthritic rockers.
Walls held gummy photographs of people
looking continually surprised.
After a bit, I felt covered in dust myself.
Finally to a locked room in the eaves.
Very sparse and neat. Just a small table
holding a mini cigar box.
“A record here of the truly rational decisions
I made during a long life.”
“An awfully small part of existence.”
That set her a-cackle!