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His New Life by Francesca Hunt

His New Life

 

In a box,
Very little room.
Dark,
Sad, forgotten,
Alone,
No sense of time.

Days,
Years, pass.
Still in the box,
Cramped,
Silent,
No child to hug.

Movement,
Strange sensation,
Lid removed.
Painful to his broken eyes,
Sounds detected by his crumpled ears,
Warmth of touch.

Soap and suds,
Soft towels and loving hugs.
A new ribbon,
A new owner,
No attic box.
The Old Bear sits with pride.

-- Francesca Hunt

 

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