Boxes

By Jack Nahmod

I’ll miss the warm embrace on my face,
the no excuse for losing touch while losing touch;
when negative was positive,
though positive was negative.
But those boxes.
Boxes, boxes, boxes and boxes.
Repeated, a word so weird it almost captures the feeling,
of having nowhere to go and people all gone.
Retreat to our corners;
repeat retweet repeat retreat.
Watch myself talk.
Boxes full of all of us.

I live in White Plains, NY. My first career was as an attorney, and I practiced law for about seven years, including a federal judicial clerkship. I then changed careers and became a rabbi, and for the past 16 years I have been a school teacher and administrator of grades 6-12.

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