The Box
“What did you get inside the box?”
“Don’t talk about that dumb old box.”
“Why not?,” he said with a moan.
“It was there when I got home.”
“It has no top, latch, hinge, or label.”
“It was just sitting there on the table.”
“I picked it up. It was light as a feather.”
“There was no accompanying letter.”
“I shook it, but couldn’t hear a thing.”
Who thought of this to bring?
“I left last. The house was locked.”
“How did it get left in this spot?”
“My mom is at work all day.”
“My dad’s out of town, far away.”
“It seems to be a perfect 12″ cube.”
“The edges are sharp, well hewed.”
“It’s light, like the metal on my bike.”
“But, it won’t reflect any light.”
“You have got to be spoofing me.”
“Pick it up and you will see.”
“All right, I will take it outside.”
He tried to lift it by its sides.
In his effort, he turned red.
“It’s heaver than hell,” he said.
“What!!” “You lie.” ” Let me try.”
I tried till I almost died.
“I picked it up awhile ago.”
“It was super light, you know.”
“What the hell is going on here?”
“Let’s go. I don’t want it near.”
“Jimmy, I’m home.” I heard mom say.
“Anything interesting happen today?”
“Just that box on the kitchen table.”
“Who’s it from?” “It has no label.”
“It was there when I got home.”
“I locked the door before I left home.”
“How did it get in here then?”
“I have no idea how or when?”
“Move it to the coffee table in the den.”
“I can’t. It is way too heavy.”
She picked it up with no effort at all.
Then moved it to the den down the hall.
“Your dad will be home tomorrow eve.”
“He may know something, I believe.”
We both pretended like it wasn’t there.
Then, next morning, it wasn’t there!!
“Did you move that box somewhere else?”
“No, I haven’t.” I said with a belch.
We looked high and low for the box.
All I found was a pair of dirty socks.
We told dad all about it that evening.
“I know nothing about this scheming.”
Days later, It is still a mystery. I say:
“Did a box show up at your house today??”
————————–R.W. Johnson—–(2017)