Strangers

I don’t know the people in this photo,
creased and wrinkled,
black and white.
Oh sure, there’s my mom,
but the others?
Maybe air force, or high school friends,
perhaps merely the people from the block.
There’s no one left to tell me,
All gone now,
like the negative for this photo,
creased and wrinkled,
black and white.
I‘ll never know the people in this photo,
yet I can’t let go.