I looked through some old photos

& the memories surfaced like

smoke from a furnace;

up from the chest & through the throat

to find a home behind the eyes..

When our hands have searched & found

the feelings we wish to drown;

when our dreams creep & crawl along the night

into the darkest corners where

creatures hide;

when

the words become sounds unbound

from meaning only vague feelings

& images remain,

What happens then?