Magic Box

May 8, 2009
By Allison Kitchen BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
Allison Kitchen BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

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.

The author's comments:
When I was younger, I had a giant cardborad box that I would always play in with my best friend and cousin, Jennie. It was not the essence of the "magic box" that made it special, but really the imagination and nostalgia that this particular memory triggers for me. I hope that this poem reminds readers of their past memories, because I think that we all have our own "magic box" in one way or another.

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