*

time stopped after faces smiled--
squinting at square time-capsuled windows
books packed, amber remains to portray
slices of cryogenic experience

yellowed paper in brittle plastic sheathes
stare back at me-- voices call
to the nowhere places that are not
wishing, wondering, "what if?"
--look for some dimensional door

some resemble me too, horribly so
the mocker looks artificial, waxen
I've decided-- these are not me at all
so out of phase with the present
yet there is an insane urge to travel back
just to see

baffled between the then and now
a suppressed scream grasps the reality
that most of those mummies smiling back
are now dust and bones
taunting with unresolved memories
reminders of our dying,
frame by frame--