a false image in a photographic negative
A roll of film, shot but undeveloped,
found in a drawer. In darkness
and a chemical bath, forgottem images
emerge from shadow. The dog still alive,
myself before my hair turned silver,
the spirit of the boy. The spectre of time
stops – the Game lasts forever.
Pitch, hit, catch and run. His face
a picture of determination and defeat.
In these images, no prescient trace of all
we would have to let go of,
what would come in its place –
what would haunt us.