by ELIZABETH P. BUTTIMER
Whatever you do, don’t open the box.
That box could hold a bombshell
if you knew the man, like I do.
You would know it could be
anything, from rattlesnakes
One thing for sure,
it isn’t what he said it is.
It could be anything from chicken
feathers to ticking clocks
to battery acid or roller skates.
Maybe a pig’s carcass,
albeit a small one, a baby
pig that died of natural causes
or maybe a leprechaun.
He could put a cuckoo clock
in there for all I know, fishing worms,
statues of Napoleon, or animal refuse,
really, you should be pleased
if it’s just fertilizer, at least your garden
would welcome a heavy boxful.
Come harvest time,
you would see the benefit.
Boomerang or bowling ball,
cannon or Klondike bars,
pop goes the weasel or the weasel
himself. I would not open the box.
I would not even peep inside
or shake it to see if it rattles.
No, I would not open the box.
It isn’t what he says it is.
About the Author
Elizabeth P. Buttimer, an entrepreneur, a manufacturer and former educator received her Ph.D. from Georgia State University and her M.S.C. and B.A. from Auburn University.
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