I’ve always loved boxes and lines

They keep things in, keep things out

Order is what it’s always been about

But the older I get, the more I find

That things don’t always fit

Curves seem to be more prominent

The clock is, after all, just a circle with some numbers

Coffins are boxes too

They leave the most hopeful scoffin’

Are all these things just hurdles to flummox us?

Appointment times and bike lanes

Pleated collars and ties

Ahh! They’re a pain!

Last weekend I saw a sign in the pizza shop

Where my husband and I chose to stop

It said, “Don’t let adulthood corrupt you”

How ironic that we were in the nation’s capital

It’s true

Lines and boxes are asking for battle

So we spent the Saturday walking, drinking coffee mid-day, eating pizza our way

We let ourselves out of the boxes

We frolicked in the streets of D.C. like wild foxes

Among the cherry blossoms

Eating pizza, drinking coffee, it was awesome

And we made a few friends

I still can’t figure out which category to put some of them in

But it was good to feel like a kid again

Where boxes are for forts

And lines are what you draw on the pavement with chalk

I don’t want to be a slave to the clock

We’ll all meet our final box: a coffin

We’d probably all do well to think about it more often

And maybe then jump out of the boxes and lines

See each person as wonderfully divine

Seek to do good

And hopefully not be corrupted by this fateful adulthood