photo: Margaret Goldsack

Hail, Cardboard! My salute to thee,
The least that I can do,
For all you’ve done and do for me,
Ne’er words e’er writ so true.

Thou pulpy rebirth of a tree,
So humble yet so strong,
We owe you much. It’s plain see.
Oh Cardboard, hear my song!

You hold my food. You form my cup
Of coffee oh so dear.
And gifts? You stoutly box them up,
Lest breakage spoil cheer.

Off-label, thou canst be a sled,
Umbrella or a fort,
A mulch to cover garden bed
When compost comes up short.

Boxboard, aglow in colors bold,
Or corrugated brown,
You recycle with ease, we’re told,
And come on back around.

And so to thee I curtsey deep.
My head to thee I bow.
You’re owed so much it makes me weep,
But that’s enough for now.

Especially for Sherry Kappel, who said, “ … if you told me you had a piece coming about cardboard, I would still read it …” Here you go!

Writing, because talk is cheap