Box of pictures (a poem)

Yes, I’ve been watching It Couldn’t Happen Here again—which has nothing to do with either this poem or this post, except that I forgot to replace it before I clicked on the ‘Post’ button…

I could play all day at nostalgia
looking at pictures of a life
I never led
and wondering how
things go from what they were
to what they are

Is there anything more to say?

Everyone has secrets
even the ones you wouldn’t expect
even if you weren’t expecting it

The bandstand is empty now
it’s probably the back
of a coffee shop or something

But that can’t erase who was there
or the pictures that prove it

(2 October 2018)


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