The Box

Rope handles fastened to each side –
we will lift this box –
a tug-of-war inside.

Down the hill, we take our time,
keeping hold of this box:
rope handles fastened to each side.

Your knuckles turn white, we sigh;
you tiptoe over the rocks.
A tug-of-war inside.

The box splinters our thighs.
I suggest we stop.
Rope handles fastened to each side.

Hands callused, rope-rubbed till dry.
We sway the box:
a tug-of-war inside.

We stop to peek inside:
a frayed trapeze line stretches across the box.
Rope handles fastened to each side.
A tug-of-war inside.

 

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