Look at you, Forgotten Photos, you who have been keeping yourself to yourself in a camera tucked at the back of a drawer.
Like finding five dollars in the pocket of an old coat - that same sizzle of pleasure unlooked-for.
You've been saving all this time morning light waiting to re-dawn.
You've been keeping bright a brilliance of leaves still unfallen in the stillness of your focused view . . .
fiery leaves from your silent and everlasting now that for me in this roaring parallel Now have faded and drifted down and been trampled and blown into dust and mud.
You've kept still even the momentary arabesque of clouds.
Written (graphein) in light (photos), you've saved for me a golden afternoon.