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
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