It seems to be a clear matter
of identifying a name or a place,
on the page, where the photo can
be typed, a title in blue, that
underlines, pulls itself through
the spindle to call the image forth.

It, then, occurs to the watcher that
everything has changed, and the
other scene cannot be found.  The
blighted, slighted mind that worries
and goes looking on and onward
sometimes finds its way, again.
There is no better course than to ask
a confused friend.  Advice leads the
wanderer back to a home where
people are on the same page.