Ever After

The photographs were lost
to the basement flood,
the attic fire.

Waters rose,
flames likewise,
drowning, burning,
all the old resemblances.

The black-and-white
childhood is no longer available.
Nor the sepia strangers
seeped in my blood.

History, memory,
float down river,
can’t tell ash from dirt.
All those stiff and silent poses—
fish food,
minerals for plants.

I grow older,
a camera
spooling out
its own rolls of film.

A scarlet tomb,
a watery grave—
say cheese.

—John Grey


BIO: John Grey is an Australian-born poet. Recently published in The Lyric, Vallum, and the science fiction anthology The Kennedy Curse, with work upcoming in Bryant Literary Review, Natural Bridge, Southern California Review, and Oyez Review.