I packed you this box
You should open it now
You see it’s wrapped brightly 
With bows and ribbons and sparkles

Inside the box
I put that picture of both our mothers
The first time they met
Their heads leaning in
Probably talking about us

Inside the box 
You’ll find a sand dollar I took from your dresser
A souvenir reminder
Of the sentimental woman
I finally found

Your box holds
An old soft sweatshirt 
Twelve pairs of reading glasses
A bike to ride through the desert’s dry gulches
And a piece of wood with a grain
That takes your breath away

Inside the box there are so many
Photos of us
Smiling smiling smiling

Robin J. Phillips March 25, 2020