Her parents’ wedding pictures
destroyed in a darkroom incident.
VHS footage of her performances
shredded by moisture and mold.
Son’s baby and toddler moments
vaporized in a hard drive crash.
A throwaway camera
on a teenage camping trip
with her not-really-a-boyfriend
and a group of his friends
which included an old guy named Shadow
who played guitar
and made up songs about blueberry pancakes.
She ordered double prints
from the one-hour Fotomat,
never got around to giving him a set.
And one day she noticed
all that was left in the envelope
was a strip of five negatives
from the start of the roll.
Which leaves the greater gap?
the souvenirs of milestone moments or
confirmation that a vivid memory was no dream.
Unpacking boxes labeled “Living Room”,
she puts the family albums in the bookcase
nearest the door. In case of disaster.
still
photographs get lost.