it was a few months ago.

the packing.

and still.

the boxes lie. in place. untouched. forgotten. and still

always remembered.

i suppose

when things

are always leaving.



you are always going.


the ones that stay

become the needles

in the stacks of hay.

and it just doesn’t make sense to look anymore.

© Hudson Biko

Photograph by Anthony Tran


5 thoughts on “boxes”

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