In Poetry on November 10, 2011 at 2:48 am


In photo albums found
at the thrift shop
the sepia tones
of grandmothers
and grandfathers
never squint
to spot a name written
in the white edges
or along the stiff paper
where corner tabs
loose their hold
on forest green fibers.

I make up names
and with a fountain pen
write them in the margins,
but, usually, I
simply daydream
a history for myself
with other people’s
discarded memories.

Kenneth P. Gurney lives in Albuquerque, NM, USA with his beloved Dianne.  He edits the anthology Adobe Walls which contains the poetry of New Mexico.  His latest book is This is not Black & White.  To learn more visit http://www.kpgurney.me/Poet/Welcome.html


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