Old photographs

It was only a photograph taken
When it meant But a 100 words
Streaks of yellows reds and one
in pink lavender
Early morning rise brought
Forming clouds blowing across the meadow
A morning dove, a crow, a barking dog
Bars of gold broke through
Twinkling glassy tears held tight on
Blades of grass
A dead squirrel lies by the side of the road,
soon to be hauled off to start a day

These are the times when pictures framed and placed
On top a cornered shelf at the far side of the room
hardly to be glanced at or hidden from view
A picture of captured words placed evenly like in a song
I remembered then, then, then was gone