Aptekar Productions' Blog

Getting Ready to Move into a New Office

I keep my photos in a box
Several boxes stacked in the stairwell (that runs down the secret way )
Bundles & albums of long forgotten, taken when we were other than ourself or young and childless,
newly parented posed or aux natural. Only after some benign errand, years to take the time and have a peek.

I keep my memories hidden, secret not to show but peek and stunned remember.
The hug, or cheeks puffed out silly, innocent and love so strong.

Glance a smile, wink and friend that’s friend no more.
One last time and shame that I am such a fool.

I keep a pile carefully, one for now and maybe this one oh
Who was the boy back when we look so happy? See the playground and old friends.
Time fast & hard enough to break your heart.

I see my loves all in a row posed on the stoop. dated clothing, ice pops melting chalk dust,
big wheels ancient arguments ,long dead aunties.
Rhoda looks so young and Zivey holds his stomach in bare chested
though I cannot remember oh but he must have just finished mowing the lawn.

I see my self slim. Who ever thinks this at the time?
My hair wild and curling, looking at the camera smiling a new brides smile.

I keep my photos in a box.
Proof that in my weakness it was fine and safe and even funny much of the time.