we did exist

I spend a few hours sifting
through
a box of photos.
old photos.
some yellowed at the corners.
the ones your mother
scissored, making a scalloped
design
along the edges.
were we ever that young?
ever that poor,
and happy
at the same time.
it's a dipping of my hand
into a soft
edged world of images,
moments captured
that seemed unimportant
when the camera
clicked but now feel like
gold,
gems, sharp diamonds
proving
that we did exist.