It started with lavender candy from France
In a round tin,
with a picture embossed on the top—
fancy French people in white wigs and jewels

Once the candy was gone I kept the little tin
I don’t remember what I had in it back then
Maybe a tiny toy lion? I seem to remember
A tiny toy lion

My mother had boxes from France as well
Limoges, the tourist kind, with gilt fittings,
But they were from France
And therefore fancy
She promised that someday
they would be mine

And eventually this all became
That Sandy likes boxes,
and everyone gave me boxes as gifts
until they covered the top of my dresser
filled, or not, with bits and pieces of my life

I don’t know what happened
to the lavender candy tin
Although I just found the tiny lion,
But the more than a dozen little boxes
Filled up with grown up things-
Earrings, old watches, pins and patches
And migrated around the house-
From the dresser top to the bookshelves
Back to the dresser, then into a drawer

Until yesterday
When I bought two prosaic wooden trays
Divided into sections
And sorted all the earrings
Into each partition
So that now I don’t have to remember
Which box has the black ones.
I put the Limoges on my desk
And the ceramic one, maybe a gift from Jan?
The rest went into a plastic bag
Into the basement
Into a box
with my mother’s china.

updated Feb. 8 because I found the tiny lion

2 thoughts on “Boxes

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