There was a box, closed, sitting in the alley, adrift. I passed it three days in a row. On the fourth I could not resist The mornings turning colder, darker, frost kissed. First morning of gloves, the chill wrapped me up. I could not resist Twelve inches square, brown commonplace cardboard, stiff someone had done that ‘flap folding trick’. I could not resist Harder work than than expected, revealing it unfurling like a flower or sea creature. I could not resist Gloveless, inserting my hands, a gentle lift revealed a tray upon which were objects. I could not resist Pine cone, ancient Chinese coin, acorn, ginkgo leaf, a key taped to a piece of card I turned over. I could not resist On the card a message, typewriter imprinted with the ‘a’s slightly asquint all the other letters. I could not resist I pulled out my reading glasses, painted instantly with mist, from the temperature change; pocket to air. I could not resist As the condensation cleared the note came into view and read: These objects are my charms and you now their custodian. They are yours for life as they were for me, they are protean. The pine cone from my son, remembering innocent times. The coin exchanged by Du Fu for his inspirational wine. The acorn and ginkgo from central park, hopes eternally blocked The key is the key to what you’ll be if you can only find the lock. What they tell you to do, you must heed. Do not resist. I could not resist
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I fell in love with this poem - not least for the 'custodian/protean' rhyme!
What a magical showing up for you, and a beautiful poem too :).