poetry by j matthew waters

filling my not so little cherry box

you kept things from us
for so many years
since the day you were born
I undoubtedly suppose
crafty and full of light
mysterious and joyously dark
constantly stashing away things
bits and pieces of yourself
you knew would one day be found

all these years having since passed
and still I’m filling the box
you made me with
not-so-accidental artifacts
periodically found in the most
unexpected places
leaving me to imagine
whether or not
you ever left us in the first place

january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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