adventures in dysthymia

Monday, July 27, 2009

OUTSIDE

There's no need to think outside
the box, if the box we're in
is large enough. Just be sure
it has room to hold your dreams.

We need boxes, you know, or all
those dreams would float away, be lost.

Poetry is a box. We fill it
with words and mail them to ourselves.
I've so many now I think
I need a box to hold my boxes.

God must have the largest box
of all. No thinking outside that one.

Stephen Brooke ©2009

A quickie poem-thing (yes, Sandburg-esque -- I seem to be doing that a lot lately). Haven't been on much, haven't written nor blogged much. Too much going on in the so-called real world (though I sometime wonder what's real and what ain't). I apologize to friends I've been ignoring.

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