Photographs
The faded colours of the old ones
Are buried in trunks for a time,
Until those trunks are opened,
And they, who no longer need the light,
Fill a room within us
With another’s captured brilliance.
Photographs
The faded colours of the old ones
Are buried in trunks for a time,
Until those trunks are opened,
And they, who no longer need the light,
Fill a room within us
With another’s captured brilliance.