Every older person, and most young too, must have looked through a photo album. Looked at snapshots of barely remembered family groups then suddenly been captivated by a scene or an occasion.

Yesteryear.

And so,
from a dream
standing how long
album in hand
pictures there
sepia squares
show remembered scenes
distant they seem
but yet fresh
detail clear
do they see me too
a moment it lasts
seconds, no more,
then gone
a shiver not cold
a sigh not sad
bleak now
warm yesteryear