The Keepsake - Poem by Maggie Munro
No sculpted stone or shade on deckle page,
no canvas daub or etch in verdigris,
no crystal flash or scrap of celluloid
can portray the simple candour of our age.
For an image made or captured in our time,
singular, or blended in the frame
can muster potency, but ne’er enough
to, this precious entity, confine.
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