inside the box

inside the box

filled with unclaimed mysteries
beckoning the curious mind
emptied of its former goods
amid the wrappings left behind

a time machine, a turtle shell
an incubator for the soul
a tiny fort, a submarine
a cozy little hobbit hole

just a universe away
ideas flower, senses bloom
secret space to call my own
right there in the living room

shadowy forms and pinhole stars
cardboard scent and muffled sound
amplify my sense of self
diminishing the world around


paul keener