A box discovered while searching the basement one day,

There was a lock on it, this dusty, old box made of wood.

Painted on it was a star and moon, overlapping were they,

What that meant if anything is a mystery I would not discover.

What’s in the box something surely was as it felt of heaviness,

A lock so unusual, this I have never seen before, a box of anything.

I touched the cover and could feel something inside, I could not open,

What’s in the box is not one thing, it holds many things, everything.

Keith Garrett