At dusk I sit in front of my computer reflecting upon the bright, promising smiles of my childhood, youth, and early thirties. I scan them one by one.
in the photos
we have ceased to be
I am his outcome
he, my memory
The setting sun sinks slowly on my glasses, and in the deep of the computer screen a gloomy and bemused face is mirrored.
Pirene's Fountain, 4:9, April 2011