The Box
by Max Kaufman
LOVE YOU
MAX!
Happy Passover -we will
miss you lots. Some
matza crack, homemade
macaroons, jellies, onion
matza & horseradish (dip it?)
for you.
XOXO, see you
Mom soon!
I read the letter after
I opened the box, scissors
ripping, four times. I unpacked
each item wrapped, carefully
held each, turned each, reading mem
tzadit hei, like it might crack.
I laid them out on my bed.
And do you know what, a song
of renewal played out loud.
I would shake the tambourine
but I was back in the box.
I laid me down in the box.
I asked someone, Elijah,
to pack it all again and
send it all back home. Tape shut.
Cardboard becomes holding;
the memories in its brown.
I open my eyes and read.
LOVE YOU who would sit with me
in the box, where we can talk
about words on wrapped paper
MAX! towels—names—tucked away
like Happy Passover is
tucked away, like the folded
table added to stretch out
-we will sit there, but we won’t
always listen—like how we
miss some story to stretch our
legs to clear the china bowls,
or you want more? you’ve had lots.,
but of course there’s more, because
Some nights are different from
all other nights where matza
isn’t, or matzo isn’t,
or matzah isn’t—crack the
word open to find stories
of families, of homemade
words, of times told soft grown soft
from grandmother macaroons lips,
jellies open into more
glow, stories of stories onion-
skinned over, like all the coats
thrown on the bed, hung on racks
before matza crumbs can get
to them & snuggle in for
years, unnoticed behind the
tears, laughter, horseradish red
and white faces that you look
at all night, for good and bad,
taking in all they feel and
(dip it?) feeling it too or
sharing in how this all does,
for you., make you feel repaired,
Xrepaired, O made anew,
Xmade anew, O closer,
so you can see what you need
which so often is just your
Mom or Dad or Brother or
Sister or Grandparent or
Cousin or Aunt or Uncle
or friend—someone who could send
you a box to be opened,
who could sit with you inside—
someone who will send it soon!
I read the letter after
I opened the box, and I
had opened the box again.