Poem: Drawers



None of them are empty.

They look safe. And some are.

Full of delights and memories
of joys and pleasures, laughter and tenderness.
Full of fire and quiet peace.

Some are not.

Full of demons and devils,
wounds and blood,
teeth still intact after years in captivity.

The thing is you never know
who lives where and so each opening
has the possibilities of life and death.

About this poem

All of us have triggers in life. Things that make us gloriously happy, or things that trigger sadness or anger. It’s the nature of life and too often, we never see either coming.

The picture was taken at the wood shop at the Hancock Shaker Village. Originally the drawers held nails.


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