Strangers in the box
Come look with me inside this drawer
In this box I've often seen,
at the pictures, black and white.
Faces proud, still, serene.



I wish I knew these people,
These strangers in the box,
Their names and all of their memories
are lost among the socks.



I wonder what their lives were like,
how did they spend their days?
What about their special times?
I'll never know their ways.



If only someone had taken time
to tell who, what, where or when,
these faces of my heritage
would come to life again.



could this become the fate
of pictures we take today?
The faces and the memories
someday to be passed away?



Make time to save your stories,
seize the opportunity when it knocks,
or someday you and yours could be
the strangers in the box!

Pamela A Harazim 1997