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.

Notes: For World Photography Day today, I offer this ode, in gratitude for how concrete my memories are, of times past.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

April 30, 2020

Posted under

Memoir, Photography, Poetry

Comments

36 Comments

Yellow Butterfly

my mother’s birthday
missing her, feeling alone
yellow butterfly

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

March 16, 2017

Posted under

Awards!, Photography, Poetry, Writing Tips

Comments

82 Comments

Sister Blue

Brother new, sister blue, I miss you.
Both lost at age four. Pain is evermore. Continue reading →

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

September 18, 2014

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

Comments

27 Comments

Song for a Friend

My love is like the rose of Sharon and the lily,
Abloom among brambles,
So is my love among the daughters.
As the apple tree thrives in the wood,
So is my love among the sons.
I sit among them with great delight.
The flowers open on the earth;
The birds sing, and even the voice of the turtledove
Is heard in our land.
The winter is past, and the rain has gone.
O my dove, hiding in the clefts of the rock,
In the secret places of the cliffs,
Let me see your face,
Let me hear your voice;
For sweet is your voice.
— Paraphrased from Chapter 2, Song of Solomon (KJV and ESV)

To a friend whose inner beauty
Casts a radiance that warms us all,
And who finds peace and joy in this world
Despite her underlying sadness.
Even as your spirit grieves,
May you be showered with love.

Note: This is dedicated to Morgan, whose loss is fresh. To have been loved is the best feeling of all, and it never fades.