Lift the wooden lid with care.
Somewhere within, you think
there must be evidence.
Newer than sepia, but not yet colour,
the budget choice was black-and-white
back then, when everyone
was glossy, greyscale sharp.
Whose camera, turned through ninety,
brought you portrait
exactly at that moment?
Your flung-back head, throatful
of laughter. My bold proposal,
the very notion of it.
Found – not found. In programmes,
badges, postcards, letters
the past unpacks. Explore what’s been
interred and who you left behind,
before the stay rests back
in place. For just one day
see how we’ve lived so long
outwith this single negative.
iii. 2025
