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The Poetry of Margret Rigsby

Cardboard Box
By Margaret C. Rigsby

Packing up my life
bits and pieces
into a cardboard box.

Ten years he spent
filling my heart
with laughter and love,
can’t seem to get that
in a cardboard box.

How do I pack those happy memories?
Looking around this house
that was our home
now barren and empty
like my heart.
Guess I can’t fill
that empty cardboard box.

My steps echo
in the hollow shell of a home.
I feel a chill
as though a ghost has passed
through me.
Memories dwell
in the depths of my mind...
I can almost see him
coming through the door...
that silly grin on his face.

The vision fades
here I am still alone.
One last box, still empty.
Alas! I’ll pack my memories
in that cardboard box.

Copyright 1997

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