Everyone had their favorite box.
Boxes dating back generations
passed on in wills and as gifts.
From small, ornate, metal ring boxes
to humidor-like wooden boxes.
An antique, oak box with lock and key.
One box beautifully carved and finished,
boosting the nameplate “Rose.”
A sprinkling of more obvious jewelry boxes
and yellowing hat boxes from the 1800s.
How did a family ever accumulate so many boxes?
Was there some genetic compulsion to seek them out
and possess them?
Or did the boxes speak more
to generation upon generation
of family members who had been taught
how to encase the mundane to the horrific
in a sturdy layer of lovely?
NaPoWriMo Day 13