Would you like to buy a box?

Open its windows and close its locks?

Maybe it comes with dirt attached

To bury the past and cover with phlox?

Is it a shoebox, cozy and low

For bears to cuddle through the snow?

Or, does it reach up to the sun

Soul laid bare to greet the fun?

Is it green and covered in moss?

Is it a gain or is it a loss?

Will birds and bees find shelter there

And sleeping friends dream pleasant thoughts?

Will pots of stew and bubbling pies

Grace window sills and countertops?

Will rays of sundew prismed bright

Bathe kitties napping sprawled in light?

Do crickets man the metronome

On Southern nights outside the home?

Are there waters glistening bright

Within a few steps of your flight?

Do desert colors greet the morn

With walls of mud and hay and stone?

Boxes can just float around,

Or, would you rather underground?

Some are stacked as high as a mile,

Want a box with miles of tile?

Trade your seashells? Line of credit?

Dream it, find it, build it, edit?

Dream it big both flat and tall,

Even round, they build it all!

But, will the phlox grow where you tend?

Will birds and bees feed on your land?

Will friends come visit, taste the pie

And, sleep contented with a sigh?

Does bubbling stew lull cats to sleep

In warmth and safety, purring deep?

Is it peaceful, quaint and sweet

Tea Olive scents on memory street?

See the box is a box, a lonely box,

Regardless how the cuckoo mocks.

Fill it with laughter, fill it with life

Be a great husband, daughter or wife.

Give of yourself as you fill every mouth

If human, or feathered; know north from south.

Buy it now and love its bones

Then boxes always become homes.

Marjan Farzaad 3/16/2023