Tin Box
A collector of tin boxes in all shape and disarray.
the older the better but the new welcome too.
It started with a house full of buttons that i will play
look here that one gone escaped the pullover.
In my pocket I will look for the next tin
as my mother knitted the great escape.
Crayon to melt a stamp and shell not gasoline
I alway found the necessary to amuse me.
Now a doyen I open the tins and travel the child
as a homeless I remember the saving of a soul.
Got my house but the tins part of my life
and still searching for the best one.
If such a thing i found today toasted
and discarded the disc for a massive ragga jungle.
A surprise to find what i will put in it
may be a wisp of air to soar the delusion.
Copyright © Catherine Labeau | Year Posted 2016
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