The old church on the plain, 
of wood planks.

I loved those photographs—
an image, pix, likeness, which word to use?

Sometimes, in a dream or real life, 
I’d see a spitting image of it.

Not a simulacrum, nothing 
of an offprint.

More of the real, an impression 
still. A stillness, portrait.

I found one of resin last year,
like a replica, yet unlikely.

I said “last year” 
instead of “at the store”—

as if the time of revelation meant
more, than any sense of place.

I used the period for fullness
and the likeness of stoppage.

More than a dash, 
that necessary leading to evidence;

or a comma, to point
to books of the commonplace.