Poetry: Inside a box

while packing cardboard lives in plastic

inside quiet rooms with no roommates

The space quickly changes shape

So I'll tuck the city under an arm

That was tattooed

with puzzle pieces of you

But tires from years of lifting

And uplifting these brick streets

back to popularity

Because somewhere in the mix

all the love was hidden

underneath the snow in hibernation

where only the children go

to make angels of themselves at the end of the day

They made angels of themselves and flew away

With the echoing church bells as their soundtrack

And twisted bobsleds strapped to their backs

So I'll take the images that I can

with big shovels and mailing tape

with a metal rusting heart

that carries all your weight anyway

To take it all

in shoe boxes and old suitcases

To carry it all in a tune I wrote for you

while practicing "Mary Had a Little Lamb"

on my screeching strings of violin

To carry it in closed mind lockets

full of too many faces to leave behind

and with the connection

Of the reflection

of the swimming sun inside snow puddles

Leaving big eyes blind

Leaving my eyes blind