
“These fragments I have shored against my ruins.” T.S. Eliot
Time Box I don't know why I chose that box, perhaps it quietly called me to an opening as a siren calls to ships, I slit the tape and pulled the flaps apart, so beginning an archeology, unearthing and sifting the dry bones of meaning, curating the feelings of connection, wondering why parts of a life were so important, might their preservation be a holding of immortality, a hope of transcendence; as I leafed yellowed pages and held incongruent objects I was flooded with a sense that all experiences come to an end, and boxes of memoria are simply eulogies of grief for the passage remembered. Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®