Stash box

Write me, high  
Mahogany  
its fall, cut  
and timber  
   
the woodshop  
the worker  
the dovetail
lacquer  
and bevel    
   
inlay the words  
that reveal its lid  
polished granite  
set to a pattern  
from some lost culture  
(or them all)
   
phrase for me  
store shelf  
and passed hands  
 
land me, my remembered wonder  
on my fathers nightstand  
   
stain for me that scent  
of a thousand, forty plus  
hour work weeks  
relaxed in cannabis  
the carbon singed residue of stone  
 
invoke for me that jester  
holding rice tissue leafs  
the clips  
pokers  
roaches  
and tied history  
of a beautiful secret  
contained in a box  
that I was supposed to stay out of