It reminded me of my favorite "not a box" poem:
Your Chinese Mama
I kiss your pudgy cheek every night when you sleep.
I smell you and breathe you.
My heart and soul ache for her.
I know I am not as courageous as she.
So much love and hope for you,
she swaddled you and placed you in a box.
A manger to me.
I talk to her every night when I kiss your cheek.
I breathe your smell, and her soul.
-- Lynne Curran
Zoe's box, the box she was found in, isn't just resonant with her, it's meaningful to me, too. It is the picture of a swaddled babe in a manger, a mother doing the best she can in the circumstances she finds herself in.