The missing photo turned up
When looking for something else
In the house, where articles go
Into hiding because we forget
Where we put them or things
Are not things as we think
And move behind our backs,
Some of the persons smiling
At us have taken their leave,
Others are still around on earth
Some on land that sees snowfall
During winter and bursts into colour
When the sun returns from its retreat,
All of us are now entering our winters
Perhaps thinking of one another
When we hurt from the rigours of age
And praying we don't hurt as much
When time comes to take us elsewhere.
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