Boxed In

When he was born, for a while, he was placed in a plastic box; thereafter as an adult he moved into many a rented and boxy room. As he matured, he filled his available space with the accoutrements of a hastily gathered together life. He mostly wanted and pined to be - a cowboy, a buckeroo on a far roaming horse for hunting the far flung. As he gazed from his boxed in mind upon the blue yonder he would sing lonesome songs knowing only the God of faraway places would hear him and not tell. He knew that if were ever to escape his own boxed-in existence he could never go back then to his four cornered homes, in the cramped and crowded towns, for that would surely hurt his wide-open heart. Ironically, and not so incidentally, he had long made a living making boxes in such places. Perhaps this alone can be said of him: That his limited life grew larger as he filled every box with his hopes, visions and dreams.