Kodak A116
I fold out the camera my grandfather gave me last April.
There’s dust in its creases so I take out a watercolour brush
from the paper mache pot and clean around its spools and pins.
Beneath the dust there’s a nameplate
which indicates how far to extend its bellows,
depending on your distance from the target.
But when I pinch the slider and fold the lens into the casing
to close it, it gets stuck. He’s coming on Sunday
for a roast, he’ll come up to my room to see the paintings.
I can feel a small metal something blocking its door
and after an hour of my thumbs slipping from the gap
between the drawbridge and the camera casing
I finally pry it open. I slide the bellows to the ten metre notch
and stand the camera in the light of the window.