This is from my collection of poems,
Knocking on a Glass Table
Behind each picture is time lost-
Open it up for flesh and blood and bones.
Unseal the frame for the past to spill out naked and raw
Burdened like a bride, except the new is gone.
Old and blue weave memory tales lost in wood and glass.
Seal it back up with a whisper and a sly look.
No one will know as we reset the nail.
