In This Photograph
These photos that I hold
are not this time yellow
or greyed or blued
or torn around the edges
or folded hundreds of times down the middle.
They are pink and new just printed
now but they are full of moments
and memories that couldn’t
ever grow old.
They are full of us
over and over and over again
us
together apart
they are still our moments
mementos of our time together.
My favorite one is beautiful
it too is pink even though it
shouldn’t be.
See there I stand looking down
at my papers concentrating
and there you are down at the bottom
looking up at me
listening to me read
and explain my story
and you look as though you are
the only one there
listening.
The chalkboard behind me is empty
and now on it, I write my thoughts
and my fears and my desires
and at that platform I stood
and I recited them all to you
through the story of another
and we are not so different.
We may not be so pretty or brilliant
but together we stand
united by our separation
in this photograph
a memory of what I never knew but miss anyway.
2 comments:
Nice. I do feel like it makes more sense to someone from Terra than it would to someone else, maybe.
"are not this time yellow" sounds like Yoda-talk, and you're not trying for any particular rhyme scheme, so I'd keep the word order normal.
I got a bit confused when it came to the favorite, pink photograph, like I needed to know more background about it to really follow.
I love the description of the person in the photograph being "down at the bottom"--it was a little strange, but a really interesting new way of looking at it.
Alright, thanks. I figure that it makes more sense if you can actually see the photograph, which is good to know.
The yellow is a typo--it's supposed to say "yellowed", although I'm not sure if that makes much of a difference. I see your point, although I did kind of like the wording there.
Thanks for the comments though Sam--I'm definitely going to work on this poem.
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