covered with a thick layer of dust
but with old photographs stiff as the dead.
It was a treasure chest of memories,
a time machine at my finger tips,
I saw myself on Aberaeron beach
wishing the past was not out of reach.
I was frowning with undeserved unhappiness
captured long ago in black and white.
Then I peered at a young woman
walking confidently out of the sea
many years before illness wiped the good times away.
There were unknown faces and those I knew,
life is as transient...as morning dew.