Tuesday, May 11, 2010

The Ubiquitous Box

A refrigerator box roosted
in my basement for a year.
We uncovered a window
and conjured up an entrance
to offer shelter to a sailor
marooned on a spit of land,
to a sheepherder setting out
for high ground, to a place
where silence rages.

Once the box saved us
from temperatures falling
so low our spit froze mid-air.

An overflowing stream
from the washing machine
soaked the floor. The box,
diminished by dampness and use,
collapsed with a practiced grace.

Stories scattered.

Linda Watskin ©2010


Wewritepoems Prompt #1

12 comments:

  1. Hi Linda,

    My favourite image here is in the very first line: a refigerator box "roosting!" I know exactly what you mean, yet never would have thought to describe it that way. Great!

    -Mallery

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  2. Oh this is lovely. It brings back so many memories of my boys in cardboard boxes. Better then toys.


    Melanie

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  3. Ummm....this is so touching and expresses an experience many of us can share. I absolutely love those big boxes that offer a world of possibilities...at least, till they get washed ashore.

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  4. Oh my goodness, this is indelibly awesome!
    The line I love most...to a place where silence rages...
    been there, done that.
    Great work here, Linda!

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  5. I guess that's thinking outside the box.
    Cathy

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  6. Wonderful blend of reality and imagination!

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  7. I like the construction of this, especially that single last line: "stories scattered", which stands starkly against your first three stanzas. Nicely done.

    -Nicole

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  8. I am struck by the way you cast the box both as practical and rescuing object and as a haven for the stories that xcattered after it's sacrifice of itself - deceptively deep poem and it gets to me.

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  9. you have to wonder where it is that the utilitarian things learn that grace

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  10. oh, it's been so long since I played in a refrigerator box. lovely poem.

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  11. I like where your poem goes and how it ends with "practiced grace."

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