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Magic Box
May 8, 2009
The basement smelled
Like well-used money;
Our favorite aroma
The scent of imagination
Beginning
To take flight--
Creep in. Our box large enough
For two.
Crunch. The cardboard
Shuffles like the sweet rhythm of music
As we crawl--
But truly we are
In a boat, and those shuffles
Are waves
That sway our
Magic box.
Waves of rolling water
Or spikes of sharp squalls;
Either way
That box took us anywhere…
We’d laugh
Magic box shudders,
And at this moment
We are astronauts:
Free
To finally explore
The profound space of friendship.
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