This Box
By Libby S
Published 23 September 2016
There it sits,
I can’t say it’s not much use because it is.
It not only holds our possessions but also our memories.
The corner is its home.
Not its first home.
Its bottom bending and its handle coming apart when it is lifted.
Yet its meaning and story stands strong.
The many cupboards and drawers to explore,
Some holding the few objects that traveled the long distance with this box.
A tape measure, long and lin, brown with years of use,
A piece of chalk, short and stubby, hard from the time it has spent sitting in the dark,
And a bunch of cotton reels, all different colours.
Its musky, musty smell leaking out of its velvety pouches.
Not worth much in our wallets.
Worth a lot in our hearts.
This Box.
This old, old box.
My great grandfather's box.
His sewing box.