An Old Shoebox
If you ask me where we keep our love,
I'll lead you to a special place,
an old shoebox tucked under the bed.
The box is nearly filled with memories:
seashells, movie tickets, love letters--a few.
A special pebble that caught her eye
rests beside the keys to a car we once rented.
There is sand in a bottle--a piece of string
she remembers well, the birthday card
I made for her the year we were broke--
none from when there was plenty...
a nickel she won from me--
we never bet a dime.
Our love is tucked away in that shoebox,
its lid repaired with glue and tape.
Once we tried a plastic box,
but it just wasn't the same.
Something about that old shoebox
says our love is safe, and like our love,
it can be mended with a little tenderness,
should a fray occur.
-- Donald H., Adult