Yeah, it actually I didn't choose my poems, my colleague, Jennifer Pokken, who's also the other co curator, she had the idea that, Oh, you know, Kathy has this project, she's got these really old family photos, wouldn't it be amazing to also have this visual of this photo and this poem side by side and how they speak to each other. And she's been working with me on my manuscripts, she's read it all the way through and made suggestions about the order of poems and all of that. And so she actually said it needs to be these two. I didn't have to make the decision myself. And they both have a photo accompanying it. One of the fun things about having a family who loves to not throw anything away is that we have all these amazing old photos and documentation of that time. So one of the poems is called class of girls reconstruct giant ground sloth. It is a poem that was inspired by an actual newspaper article with that exact same title. My great grandfather was a science teacher in high school, he taught all different kinds of science of paleontology. But he also would teach nursing students. And so he would often bring some classes out to the digging, usually boys, that was the time period, right. And then other students would be doing cleaning as part of what they were learning about. And so these girls, this class of girls, quote, unquote, they were probably nursing students. And what he would do is he would teach them anatomy by having them reconstruct the skeletons. And so there was a, I forget what they're called. But it's a sketch, you know, that they put in with the newspaper of an image of these girls putting together this giant ground sloth. Well, that sketch is based on this photo that I have of a bunch of girls putting together a giant ground sloth. And I created a poem about that kind of imagining what must have been going on in their minds. So that's one of the poems in the photos, the other is more related to just my family history, and a loss. So my great grandfather's son, my grandfather, Walter, I never met him, either he died before I was born, as well. And a little bit of a tragic tale with him and his wife, who I'm actually named after a grace. My middle name is Grace. She died when my father was 16 have lung cancer. And so that's sort of a heavy burden for a young boy for my father. But there's this old picture of her and her husband, Walter and grace, probably at the time, they were building this cabin in the mountains in California in the 1930s. And he's pushing her in a wheelbarrow and you can't see him, but you can just see her smiling face, and it's a little bit blurred, it's an action shot. So I wrote this poem about the relationship and this lovely moments and kind of the love they were feeling and how they had no idea what their future was going to hold and sort of, unfortunately, the tragedy that was going to befall them. And so that's the other photo.