Present

            A pretty box of solitude
            Wrapped in dreams
            Tied with distance and memories
            What counts is what is in the box
            Not what it's wrapped up in
            Certainly not the thought
            You can't tear away the dreams
            Without untying the memories
            That hold them together
            So the package remains just that
            A carefully planned mystery
            The true content untouched


            --Barbara E. Prater, 1996