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Absence

  • Joanne Benedetto
  • Dec 24, 2025
  • 1 min read

A family photo curling in the flame

I laid it on the pit to light the fire

For kindle took apart the picture frame

Separating the wood from the wire

The old nails hammered still into the wall

With the persistent shadows hanging there.

No matter from which side I saw it all

From sitting on the top or bottom stair

I saw it even when my eyes were closed

I saw it as it perished in the flash

I saw when my emotions were exposed

The only thing to rescue from the ash.

 
 
 

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