Between us, this box thorugh which I look
At you and you cannot
See the sorrow I bring from years of capturing
Moments that never will come again.
When we die, I’ve been told, we really
Die twice: whenwe settle into breath’s absence
And when no one on this earth
Knows who we are in photos left behind
Yet how can I stop myself? The glory of
This moment, your very soul in your eyes.
Eugene, Oregon, poet Ingrid Wendt is the author of five books of poems and co-editor of two
anthologies. A musician by avocation, she was a visiting writer in public schools, universities
through the US and abroad for 30 years. Recent poems appear in Poetry, American Poetry
Review, Terrain, Calyx, About Place, and others. Https://ingridwendt.com
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