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


  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!


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


  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.

  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!

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

  6. Wonderful blend of reality and imagination!

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


  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.

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

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

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