Lens

Pictures
Photos
Snapshots

Poetry is a candid photo
Poetry is a snapshot
You keep in a box
And say “remember when”

And I thought I didn’t want any pictures right now

But how can I forget?
When the memories are etched?

A held hand
Tears streaming down
As I read the poetry that defined my childhood

Counting days
Celebrating each one

I’m ready to retrieve my camera

Each frame captured
In these Polaroid words

For joy or heart wrenching agony

Are all part of this collage I keep
The pieces of a life
The pieces of mortality

And I am ready to look through that lens again