by mandaceehb

musty daylight in a woody room

alive with the flight of dust butterflies

it has been an almost still,

untouched life until we entered today

beside the ancient box of a computer grandma finds

a Minolta and identical Jenoptiks donning dusty covers

(they are foreign brand names)

in another corner a Canonet: I find this contraption from 1966 and am completely floored

the dials and levers are utter strangers;

i cannot find the shutter but at some point

grandma vaguely recalls how it used to work:

a lever for the film and a button to capture the image

we are as fascinated by the past as people would be by the future

grandma uncovers grimy photo albums;

i see my father as a child for the first time

the power of photographs to preserve moments that would have been long

lost to our fallible human memory

if grandpa could have waited

to see me grow into my passion for photography today

we could have laughed at how the cameras have come full circle

bulky for lack of technology in the past,

and bulky again today, the DSLRs

it was a bridge we could have built

had time allowed

but i am wholly contented with the smiling black and white

films painting yesterday’s story