Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
here i stand
before a wall of box—
a cardboard mountain fox—
my transient life mourns home
with the passing ticks and tocks
of rootless, relentless, moving clocks.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, July 6, 2026.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: July 6th, 2026 08:42
- Comment from author about the poem: Part of The Rutted Road collection. Today is T-0...move day. So, if I seem a little sketchy in my reading or replying over the next several days, please forgive me. I'll be back into a steadier rhythm once the boxes stop multiplying. 😅📦
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 37
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Syd, Friendship
- In collections: The Rutted Road.
Offline)
Comments10
good write my friend
Thank you so much, Norman! 📦🦊🖤🙏
most welcome
Good write T.
Why thank you
glug
Orchi! Excuse me...
hey...Mr. P...can you lower the glugging while I thank Orchi! Thanks pal!\"
Where was i? Oh, yes. Thank you, Orchi! 😅 📦🦊🖤🙏
He just had to sneak in and ruin things... lol.
Time stands still for no man nor fox. 🌹
And how! 😂 Truth! 📦🦊🖤🙏
Whether those boxes are your moving or for shipping they do have clocks ticking. The transient life of person or belongings is a stress. Well done my friend.
Soren, thank you, my friend. To clarify, it's moving, not shipping, but you're right either way, the clock doesn't care which kind of transience it is. Appreciate your insights, always. 📦🦊🖤🙏
My pleasure
You label those boxes to make things easy at the other side.
Yet for some reason, cutlery isn't in the box marked cutlery, and nothing else is either.
Stressed out already.
Paul, thank you, my friend, this made me laugh in the middle of my own boxed-up mess. Labels are apparently more of a rubric cube schema than a system once moving day actually arrives. Appreciate the solidarity! 📦🦊🖤🙏
Hi Tristan, this is quite clever. I really like it.
I had to read it twice, then I read your absence note. After that, the penny dropped, and scrolling further down confirmed that the poem was about moving house and packing your life away into cardboard boxes.
I've only ever moved once in my adult life, and it was incredibly stressful. I don't envy you at all.
A very clever, concise poem.
– Syd 🍄
Syd, thank you, my friend. Glad it held up to a second read and clicked once the pieces lined up. Moving really is its own particular flavor of chaos, so I appreciate you sitting with the poem and the stress of it alongside me. 📦🦊🖤🙏
Well written. Your poem is about your own experience of being out of place or disconnected from a sense of home. The imagery you painted of a "cardboard mountain fox" suggests fragility and artificiality, emphasizing themes of impermanence and the longing for stability amid the relentless passage of time. I am here for you, my friend. Hang in there, it will work out over time.❤️🙏🌹🙏
Friendship, thank you, my friend. You read it exactly right, impermanence, the longing for stability, all of it. And thank you for the reminder that it works out over time...means a lot right now. 📦🦊🖤🙏
Moving can be Traumatic. Like this.
Kevin, thank you, my friend. Traumatic is exactly right, no need to dress it up further than that. Appreciate you naming it plainly. 📦🦊🖤🙏
All i could think of was poor old Captain Hook! ⏰
arqios, that's a fun one, my friend...Captain Hook forever haunted by that ticking crocodile isn't too far from this cardboard fox listening to his own relentless clocks. And both crocodiles and foxes do have toothy grins! 🐊🦊 lAppreciate the fun angle on this one. 📦🦊🖤🙏
Most Welcome, dear Tittu. Foxes have also been a lifetime shadow-favourite for some reason. 🙏🏻🕊️
There’s a lonely weight in these few lines, capturing that strange feeling of being caught between leaving and belonging.
The cardboard mountain is a powerful image—temporary walls holding the heavy search for a place to finally call home.
Thomas, thank you, my friend. You caught it exactly, the lonely weight, the temporary walls, the search still searching. Means a lot that it came through that clearly. 📦🦊🖤🙏
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