As a friend, I had come to help <br />yet one more time <br />and I watched as she set <br />the cardboard box on the floor. <br />It was labeled for Good Will, <br />penned in large block letters. <br /> <br />From deep in the closet, <br />she brought out an old blue suit. <br />It had faded over the years, <br />but I saw in her eyes <br />the memories still had not. <br /> <br />Softly, she smoothed the sleeves <br />that dangled flat and empty. <br />Then she stroked the slack trousers <br />on the smooth wooden hanger. <br />Gently, she brushed <br />the dust from the collar and lapel, <br />and then I heard her sigh. <br />Her resolve had melted away. <br /> <br />Again we talked and remembered. <br />We spoke of long ago, <br />how the sleeves encircled her <br />in warm secure hugs, <br /> <br />and the trousers had covered <br />lean muscular legs, <br />legs slightly bowed, <br />legs that loved to dance, <br /> <br />and what she missed the most <br />-the heart that beat below <br />the lapel of the old blue suit, <br />the heart that beat with love for her. <br /> <br />For over thirty years, <br />the suit had stood sentinel, <br />loyally guarding both her <br />and those memories, <br />and I watched as she carefully <br />replaced the suit and closed <br />the closet door. <br /> <br />Through quiet tears <br />she asked once more <br />how all of that could ever fit <br />in a box for Good Will.<br /><br />C.J. Heck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-box-for-good-will/
