She unearthed the box near the curb

Buried beneath white trash bags

An old seat cushion

Woolen, electric blue,

The color of secrets

The size of a mother’s heart.

She filled it with mystery

The size of a hummingbird’s egg

Stuffed it with wonder

Scented by Babylon

Placed it dead center

Under her lonely platform bed

Voyaging on nightly visions

Distilled by the vapors

Of its contents.

 

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