Photographs Redux
Written 11.9.07

in the corner of my mom's closet
there's a box
below another box
and in that box
there must be
fifty envelopes
of nothing
but photographs.

a little girl in a blue-green sweater
and a blue-green coat
(were all my winter clothes blue-green that year?)
her dad in a shirt that's
the same blue-green
they're sitting on a bench
looking out at a half-frozen lake
you can't see their faces
because they are
all the memories I've lost
to the ravages of time.

that photograph
is tear-stained now.