Ottawa's Festival of Ideas Since 1997

Glowing Box

Blowing softly in the wind, me swaying side to side

She sat down gently resting her back on mine,

While she filled her flexible mind with words

Words carefully laid down on a sheet to educate, Expand her mind
She returned everyday, planting her mind in the nourishing soil

pressed between each and every page
She would sit with me hour upon hour
Riding the vocabulary rollercoaster of emotion
We became friends
Slowly, the seasons drifted to winter
The wind bellowed with a deep whoosh, tearing the leaves off my branches
As if I were moldy old wallpaper from some granny’s basement,
It’s time to sleep
A season later, I woke up to the sun gently stroking my newly born leaves
as a parent would a child
My friend came back but this time, with a bright thing in her hands, it light up her face

She got made fun of, tossed around, and hurt
Then she would listen to music to soothe her damaged self
So many characteristics crammed into that little glowing box
She was getting sucked into the thing, the glowing thing.
I sacrificed a branch to try to knock the device away, but she was trapped.
I darkened knowing my friend was lost
Lost in the glowing box.