How valuable is your box?
I suppose, as with most things,
It is a matter of perspective.

Is it a great big one,
With several smaller inside,
Wrapped by a mischievous parent?

Could it be the smallest one,
Poorly wrapped by a loving husband,
Proud of the treasure placed inside?

Maybe it is the one in the top of the closet,
With pictures, cards, tickets and notes;
Cherished memories of no monetary value.

Perhaps it is the one you live in,
Salvaged from behind the liquor store,
The closest thing you have to a home.


Written for the Poetic Asides Wednesday prompt.


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Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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