I recollect an evening years ago,
reviewing photographs to organize
a scrapbook of my family, and so
last week familiar felt – I put my eyes
to skimming most the verses I have stored
within my home computer 20 years.
A thousand sheets of meter I explored
that catalogue ideas and atmospheres.

Those sonnets are the snapshots of the me
that bides inside, and flipped in that review,
they animate like film my memory,
provide perspective, point at progress, too:
in writing, living, choosing from the bell
of fortune’s bounty, what I want to tell.