Warriner Ave.

is a photograph: I can see it
only to its limits at the end
of photo paper—there, the beige
carpet and the hues of the early
1980s, a red running vest, my brother 
and I, little statues with dark eyes,
gathering light at the other end
of the lens. I know there was
a porch and a little bit of green
grass. So I've heard, so I imagine.

MB 2020

is a photograph: I can see it