She says,
Those dented boxes
you have stuffed
full of old photos
and ink-faded letters?
The dusty boxes stacked
precariously in the corner
(stacked on your heart,
stacked in the corner of your eye)
Oh, what you built there,
she says,
Those are a metaphor.
And “she” is so very right. I really love how you’ve captured a whole life in this poem and treated it so gently and tenderly. Beautiful.