poem

I went looking for answers
in the boxes
in the back corner of the basement

the ones we moved from apartment
to apartment
from house to house
without ever opening

I wanted to know
how did we get here?
how did it happen?
did you love me then?
did you want me for the next 30 years?
was it inevitable --
the walk down the path
that had been mapped out for us
or did we cut through the weeds and the brush
burrs clinging to our clothing
tangled in our hair
as we tried to reach some distant point
where something red flashed in the sun?

all I found were mouse nests,
our history chewed and chopped
into downy pieces
soft piles
of comfort.
home.