Pause for poetry:
Michael Hawkes /13

Cardboard Boxes

A poem by Michael Hawkes

Have you been where cardboard boxes
are prized personal possessions
as precious as pillows,
as private as pajamas;
where layered cardboard boxes
make a grand four cornered bed?

Have you folded cardboard boxes for a cushion
or cut up broken boxes
for the flame in every shred?

Have you been where men burn boxes
to keep the frost from biting
to frighten off coyotes
and repel the dark of night.

Have you stood among the boxes
in the braziers barrelled brightness,
heard the brothers bellies rumbling
in their alcoholic lightness,
or seen their corrugated faces
in the shadows of its light?

Have you helped to tear
and break the boxes up
and shared the stubborn
stapled corners of their plight?

14/09/20 Hawkes

Feature image: Pedro Ribeiro Simões via StockPholio.net
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Michael Hawkes - WestmountMag.ca

Michael Hawkes is an 80-year-old survivor of all the world’s wars. He learned (and loved to rhyme) by torturing the hymns he had to sing at school. A retired West Coast fisherman living in Montreal since 2013, he is an unschooled Grandpa Moses writing an average of five poems every week.


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