A tattered ribbon bleached by the sun.
A blown-out portrait,
fuzzy edges.

Gorgeous imagery, so succinct and sure in its portrayal of memory, which in itself is so hard to capture, so intangible. The abandoned house looms large over this poem, both as a metaphor, and literally in that picture at the start. It's almost chilling, but you bring a tenderness in your words which make it warm. Even if only for a while, in this small act of remembrance. Just wonderful.