Wednesday, May 3, 2017

photos

pictures come in the mail
with a small note.
remember these?
enjoy. they are
yellowed
and crimped.
smudged.
a darkened restaurant
with bottles of
beer on the oak
tables.
a plastic basket of bread.
there's me at twenty two,
a girl
beside me, someone
I was with for an
hour or two.
friends across the table,
one dead,
the other a podiatrist
living
in Baltimore.
the other photos are more
vague.
strangers, people
I've never met before.
why are these pictures
sent?
none are suitable for
framing.
they do nothing
but sadden me.

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