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Unpacking Five Boxes

Andrew Breen

I.
Twelve months
and five boxes later,
ghost left.
Stay here.

II.
No photos—I
destroyed them before
you told me to
“leave now.”

III.
Things smell of old
places. No bad mem’ries,
star crossed moments.
unpack.

IV.
Lots of junk.
Stored grief release,
a happier
forward.

V.
One brass button
held in my hand,
a golden calf.
False hope.

VI.
Books lined neatly.
Unfolded stories from
five boxes I
never packed.

VII.
Sleep has come eas—
ier since dropping the
rope. Drinking less
helps.

VII.
The pleasure of
what we once had, ruined
by desire
for more.

IX.
Fortune cookie
philosophies aid in
passing through
moments.

X.
All things in
their places. Made bed
beckons, sleeping
alone.

XI.
Twelve months,
five boxes, one brass
button; settled
hearts.

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