All morning <br />she trawls all over <br /> <br />the house <br />looking for <br /> <br />boxes...boxes. <br /> <br />Box after box <br />she brings or drags up <br /> <br />to her <br />Teletubbie room <br /> <br />as if she were a little <br />mad scientist <br /> <br />& needed <br />boxes...boxes <br /> <br />for some mad crazy <br />experiment. <br /> <br />I go up to shave <br />my face slowly <br /> <br />watching her <br />from the mirror. <br /> <br />She lines up her army of <br />boxes... boxes <br /> <br />& <br />one by one <br /> <br />painstakingly <br />methodically <br /> <br />she puts a (box) <br />within a (box) <br /> <br />until the box <br />is filled up <br /> <br />with boxes <br />(boxes) . <br /> <br />Finally one box <br />contains all boxes. <br /> <br />I give her <br />a newly shaven kiss <br /> <br />as she <br />explains: <br /> <br />”The emptiness was empty <br />so I...filled it up! ”<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/boxes-for-lyn/
