Spring Cleaning

It will never happen
like this again

she says

as I read a letter
written in 1975,
the ink already fading
into the past where
these lines about how
the new house began
only to become the
old family home

and we laugh at
feeble artistic attempts
that resemble the ancestors
of every amateur internet
photographers dreams,
remarking about how
precious each line
of film was held,

to covet
like every line
in this letter

that will never
happen again.


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