An Empty Box

Here is a pretty plain, entirely empty cardboard box.
There’s nothing inside it, except your own thoughts.
One box can be a soldier’s helmet or a garden hat.
Or a genie’s lamp, or a bed for a cat.
Two boxes are shoes or bracelets or toes
Of a gigantic giant with your couch for a nose.
Three boxes can cover your head and your hands
As you explore in armor lots of faraway lands.
Four boxes are wheels for the fastest race car
Or hooves for your horse, or whatever you are
Riding to battle for the dragon’s treasure.
With a fifth box, you can set out to measure
The width of the Grand Canyon, or the height of Paul Bunyan.
Or you can build a really, REALLY big onion
To live in. With six, you can travel the world
In a mile-long train, with a caboose of gold,
That holds tuba-playing squids and the masterful kid
At the helm of it all: you! Just open a lid,
And you might be surprised to know
That with an empty box, anything goes!