When looking for the future
Should you ever start in the past
Or leave what was ever buried
In the boxes where you saw it last

To see the image that was only thought
May just shake a sure conclusion
Once consigned to vaulted memory
It’s flickering glow a mere illusion

Looking when it is easier to turn away
Will show what light memory has diminished
Cast away shadows so long unseen
With vision cleared of darkened finish

The question “why?” set above a picture
Now rests upon several more
A little black box for years left sealed
Presented images I still adore