Poetry and Poetics
GIRL IN A GIFT SHOP
The nested boxes fascinate her most,
Each with an elephant carved on its curved lid.
She stacks them in a teetering pyramid
A time or two, but soon becomes engrossed
In putting the scattered pieces as they were:
A puzzle whose solution seems to mean
Not everything that matters can be seen.
Her mother calls, and
like a conjuror
She turns and rises, flourishing with pleasure
The finished puzzle, cunningly compact,
In whose dark center, shapely as a fact,
There might or might not lie some tiny treasure.
© by Catherine
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