Little Boxes

I pressed your button

No longer immune to the hopeful smile

Bravely armed

Against the teeth of truth’s omission

What lies behind those eyes?

What time ravaged stain still bleeds?

Barely seen through brilliant color

Fragile souls

Rudely shoved on parquet floors

Dare to dance a soul free samba

Arms flail with heart-sick abandon

Feet of lead firmly planted

Locked in place by gnarled roots

Creped skin thinly stretched






I close the book with gentle hand

Resolve to leave the edge untorn

Fragile boxes

Wrapped in pretty paper

Boldly Stamped

Handle with care


Dail Post Keyword: Fragile


About Phil

Hi, my name is Phil. I’ve managed to escape the corporate world, rid myself of excess belongings, travel the country extensively in my old Winnebago, and find a new home on a beautiful barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico. I define myself as: a free spirit, a writer, a philosophical anarchist, a poet; a lover of nature, a lover of art, a protector of animals, as well as a devoted friend and partner
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2 Responses to Little Boxes

  1. Love this! You are a fantastic poet Phil.


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