graphic image of an unopened box, ornate in style, against and abstract space

Empty Stow

He’d expected to find it quickly.
Cupboard barren, Christo withdrew.
Paranoia gave him pause;
he wondered if they knew.
Could he have gone wrong—
Who was to say?
Empty stow—
Trouble
Now


The nonet poetry form fit this poem today.


Written for Ragtag Daily Prompt‘s October 21 (Friday) post.
Click the link for participation guide.

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