
Time,
present and past.
Frozen moments,
remembered and forgotten.
Beauty,
ordinary and extraordinary.
Photographic power
reveals in light and dark
what my mother looked like as
a young girl,
or my father as
he welcomed me to the world,
or myself
as I smiled between
brother and sister
whose faces are only visible
in black and white now.
Lost faces, missed warmth, people
linger in shades, lines, and shapes,
like hieroglyphics of the past.
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: For World Photography Day today, I offer this ode, in gratitude for how concrete my memories are, of times past.
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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You made the words dance to perfection. A outstanding poem shared my friend.
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Thanks, JohnCoyote! I appreciate your visit and comment very much.
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Was my pleasure and you are welcome dear Brenda.
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Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
Amazing poetry by a talented writer.
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Lovely ode.
I like the old photos better in a way. They are more special, precious. A Brownie Fiesta, a roll of film, getting it developed, the excitement of picking them up and seeing how they came out.
People didn’t take zillions of pics every day on their smart phones, and plaster them everywhere.
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So true. My grandfather took a lot of photos. Many of his grandchildren take photos, too.
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Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
WELL-DONE BRENDA…AIDS TO MEMORY ARE WORTH IT—EVEN WHILE OLD AND CRACKED!
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Even colorized. 🙂
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😀
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BUT THEY FIGURE AS IMPORTANT TO US…! ALTHOUGH FROZEN IN TIME.
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Absolutely. They help us remember moments we’d otherwise forget. I wouldn’t remember my mother’s face, but for the photos I have of her. Or my brother and sister, for that matter.
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ditto in this neck of the woods!
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So true❤️
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🙂
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Wonderful!
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Thanks!
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absolutely beautiful ode to the power of photographs to transport us and remind us
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They are so powerful. In so many ways.
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Wonderful.
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Thanks!
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A fitting sentiment, especially now. Thanks!
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Thanks! I’m still getting used to the new editor.
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Absolutely lovely, Brenda
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Thank you!
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