Archive #6

In this space holding

Silence like an empty church

Files press the hearts’ narrow

Signature like a flower;

Photographs align forming

A gallery of human frailty

Here is a paragraph

Slashed through in red; marked

‘This written in error’

In time all lives are shown

To be written in error,

Their fragile hopes found

Indexed amongst dead texts,

Efficient filing protects nothing,

In time every name fades;

Becomes known only to indifferent

Clerks working with rolled sleeves