While loading the projector
The family sat in the basement waiting
For my strange artistic uncle
Unmarried, no children
Six foot four ducking doorways
To roll the film.
grandparents on vacation
In Puerto Rico or some other Spanish city
too young to remember
Sunny sunny sunny days
So tanned and happy
Smiling at their good son behind the lens
Documentary filling the requirements
Of our family's collective memory.
excavate mind attic for more meaning
finding sweet pieces of smiles
A 70's soundtrack and Kodachrome skies.
message in a bottle lost at sea.
Forty years have passed since he rolled that film
Everyone dust and decay now
still existing somewhere
Please let me know if you find it.
YOU ARE READING
north on 50 - canadian interior poems
Poesíaas long as we live we create and break relations with fantastic efficiency. when attachments prove inconvenient, its not always the other that agrees. its the will changing people, places and things. answers in the unanswered. a pregnant pause.
