degradation of memories

Standing in the Big Box sliding memories into the grey plastic machine
It is kindly and tries to treat me well
When it eats one it is usually a monument I want to forget

The machine will collate, replicate, index and transmutate
My memories into bits and then back into light
Disseminate them onto disks that will store and protect

What will not be taken into account
Is how the degradation of memories will still occur
Until someday my grandchild will look at a picture of me holding her
And ask: Who is that?

the envelope

The table top was covered with photos

he held up one to the light

examined it closely

passed it to his sister

their mother smiling slightly

then their father trying to be formal

then their mother and father together

no smiles in that one

just 4 by 6 pieces of paper

but more like spoons

stirring the pot of forgetfulness

he turned and looked at her

she nodded

they stuffed them back into the envelope.