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POEM: The Box

editorial image

Attic of my grandmother’s house

Inlaid and oriental

A sandalwood box

I hear the sound of the sea

Touching its carved surface

Whorls and carvings

Of mythical creatures

Two locks

Keep its secrets, secret

Should I force it open?

It growls as I touch it

Light glimmers between

The lid and body

I peer through the gap

Is some vaporous spirit stirring?

Or is it something scalily lurking?

What’s in the box...?

Adrian McRobb

Cramlington