The Magic Box

Poem By Deana Bayless

I will put in the box
the tears I've shed forming a river on a cold night,
the sight and sound of a motorcycle and a crash,
the smell of a hospital when the earth turned black.
I will put in the box
the nightmares I've had on cold winter nights wondering what would happen next,
a sip hot cocoa to warm me up and calm me down,
a falling tear that I shed when I heard the news.
I will put into the box
the fall season my life changed,
a living body in a grave yard,
and a zombie in a hospital.
My box is fashioned from memories and a broken heart.
With a tear on the lid and hearts in the corners.
Its hinges are the pieces of a wrecked motorcycle.
I shall ride the waves in my box on the pacific ocean
then wash ashore on an island in Hawaii
the color of the motorcyle.

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