The comfort of an elementary photograph
pulls me from the digital archives of Instagram:

I am kneeling to tie my shoelaces.
A girl with short hair squats before me.
Silhouettes of trees occupy the background,
branches stenciling the brown, dry field beyond

where I sift through the soil, hoping for golden specs.
Maybe we were running so fast
that my small legs unraveled
with my shoelaces. Maybe
I gazed up, relieved to discover
I was not left behind. Maybe
she needed a break and I was waiting for her.
Maybe she still lives in California.
Maybe she is not in America.
Maybe she is not alive.
Maybe we were not friends. Maybe
we only exist in the dry field,
past the shadowed trees where
warm light waits to capture
a copy of a moment, a copy
on a glass tray, converting
to RGB pixels per inch—uploaded
for the world, for countless
new memories gone.

# # #

Michaela Erwin is working towards an M.A. in Creative Writing at California State University, Sacramento. Her wok has been published in Sac State’s literary journal Calaveras Station. She is a Sac State Bazzanella Literary Award recipient.

Photo: Michaela Erwin