The old couple sits on the front stoop
of an ancient farmhouse-
starring from a circa 1960’s colored photograph-
surrounded by myriad multicolored flowers.
The old couple is long gone, the farm house
has been bulldozed to the ground and the flowers
did not survive the coming winter.
Nothing now remains it would seem, only images
captured on paper with silver and dyes.
The photograph has hung in the hall gallery for years-
Yet, for the first time this morning, it struck me-
the flowers in our garden are descended
from generations of those very flowers,
and some material from the old farmhouse was recycled into
the house that their grand daughter and I now occupy.