The white black logo'd Canon box is perched
on the shelf top back against the closet wall
still sporting an electric green label
directing it from Montreal, Quebec
to 26th Avenue, Regina.
It's made nary a peep these nineteen years.
I don't know how it got to Avon Drive.
Yet there it squats enticing my regard.
Hoisted down, it basks in the window light
on the bedroom floor knowing I won't wait long.
Top thrown back, photo albums, programs, cards,
conjure up faces, names, relationships,
complexities of my long ago 12 year
passion for a group of colleagues, students, and friends,
fun, joy, pain, challenges, disappointments,
successes, satisfactions, gratitudes,
good wishes, good byes!
All too much for now!
I push the box lid back in place resolved
to sort and savour slowly the contents later
after packing today's moving boxes.