Photos of people long gone,
locked away in trunks,
tucked into corners of closets,
beneath eaves in the attic,
birthdays, weddings, 
days at the shore,
old sands not washed away,
sunlight captured on silver backing,
sharply focused, though I cherish 
even the blurred

I grab an old camera,
and frame the photo 
within its lens, as though
I am snapping it for 
the first time

I can hear the surf, 
smell the cake's frosting,
feel the dance floor
beneath my feet

I yell out Smile, or
Say cheese,
to no one

I cannot throw away
yesterday's photons

cc: CC '22