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.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2023
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