An old sepia photo is the nearest I came to meeting you,
And I shall always treasure it like a sparkling jewel,
Though what it has really done to me,
Is stoke my mind with added fuel.
The year it was taken, I have no idea,
Though from the attire it was probably early 19 hundred,
You gazed at the lens in an oddly displaced kind of way,
As doubt in the camera had you floundered.
I don't really know how I came to possess it,
Whether some distant memory fought to be told,
While I have never had the key to unlock all these things,
One day,
One day it will all unfold.
