the word holds it’s own image
photo (light) – graphy (writing)
rays as old as the universe
captured on paper, looking
like you and me one past
afternoon, another at sunset,
and on through the stack of
time that stays in the old
shoebox, waiting to be seen
again, to let the years’ light
catch up like stars we can
finally see, the click of the
camera writing the light
like an icon, a window to
heaven, and I find, again,
I can stare into your eyes
and find the light never
goes out, no matter
how deep the darkness.
Peace,
Milton
