There was a time all photographs transformed
gradually,
in rooms of dim amber light
Film was removed from cameras privately
but placed into water and specific chemicals
things developed
dark paper became lighter
images revealed themselves
a piece of the past was frozen into place
Certain winter mornings
I observe similar magic
Eastern light enters our bedroom gradually
the dark shapes on our bed transform until
you are next to me: wrapped in quilts and sleep
In soft orange/amber light
my favorite dream comes true