The boxes may not hold it all,
that’s been our fear all along.
That the precious cargo escapes,
finds a new life loved elsewhere.
A place where every item is treated,
needs exceeded like a new born.
The boxes may just hold up
to the strain of the pressure.
That has built up for a lifetime,
some hid for years, untouched.
A route where each possession
must hang on to keep its position.
David A. Church