By Anne Lindgren – Camrose, Alta.
Boxes invade my privacy…
They probe and jab and point.
I am surrounded by boxes
That are full, empty and closed.
Windows scream for attention
I see nothing.
The fridge cries for refurbishment
I slam the door.
The telephone asks me for coffee
I hang up.
Even the clock ticks no more
It’s silent and motionless and
It’s packed away in a box
Ready to leave this time behind.
I wish I were a box
with no feelings…
Just full of stuff, ready to move on.
Perhaps I’ll go find a mountain
To climb
Or a hill off which to jump
Or maybe, I’ll just jump
Off these boxes and move on.
Beyond these boxes
My new home awaits me
These boxes which are full
Of years of life
And love and me.
Boxes that I suddenly
Itch to unpack
I want to see everything again
Unpacked and alive
In my new home!
I want to live and love again…
Yes! I’m moving on!
