Memory
Is a shoe box
Full of old photographs.
Occasionally,
We rummage through it
And a forgotten image
Is brought to life -
A single moment,
Frozen in time and
Preserved for posterity.
Captured reminiscences
In monochrome squares;
A disorderly index
Of past events,
Somehow retained -
Filed away in a shadowy
Recess of the memory box.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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