….
……………………
I shun old pics,
their sweet bitterness
their cutting edge
their tricks
daughter’s mittens
hung from cuffs
kodachrome taunt of time
enough
I’d rather mine old stones,
turn up what’s scattered
in my skull, the gold—
stick with what my head
will hold
I do not take nostalgic risks
the photo box stays
beneath the bed
with CDs of bygones
in code on disks
when memory goes
it will not matter
I may not even know the aliens
who peer from three by fours
or smile from screens
in pixel splatters
love is as it occurs
now is breath’s agency
not frozen
not shot with poignancy
not mere blur
.
Jim Culleny
Jan 29, 2011
Jan 29, 2011
I love this one. Very nice.