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The box
I keep a box of memories
it’s safely tucked away
but now and then and then again
I bring it out to play.
a marble here a matchbook there
and pictures one or two
of things I’ve done and wars I’ve won
and yes there's one of you
my father’s broken pocket watch
my mother’s broken dreams
my sons first tooth, a letter home
and empty space it seems
oh yes, Sweetheart, I see them now
the feathers gold and blue
we marked them with the day and date
of nineteen-ninety-two
and here's the twig I took for you
from your father's nest
and tuft of down to comfort you
from your mother's breast
and yes, Sweetheart, I understand
I dearly love you too
and if I could I’d spread my wings
and fly away with you.
by Mike Bross
Read the story behind this poem
Comment
Yours is the first poem I have read that has motivated me to leave feedback so consider yourself honored !!
Seriously, it is a worthwhile poem that I am sure you re-read often and are very proud of... and rightly so.
It can be difficult to write effectively about things that are personal to you (and at the same time reach out to the reader) but you have achieved it with 'The Box'.
I enjoyed it because it was straightforward in its approach, revealing as to the thoughts of the author, and a little sentimental too .... just the way I like my poetry.
I read a lot of poetry, from the classics to the modern, and I also write a little as well .... but I especially enjoyed your poem which I think was well thought out and conveyed the importance of the message.
You mentioned that you live alone, but talent will always finds company... so please continue to write.
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