Old Photos

Remember whens come often.

The other day I

held some old photos,

edges worn and starting

to fray. Those flat

soles carried me far,

and I had to

laugh at how thin

those jeans looked on

my thinner body. And

then a sigh began —

as it always does.

Do I toss them

aside now that the

capture has long since

escaped; why retain it

when it won’t matter

on my deathbed when

wisdom too late comes

a-calling? And how shall

I honour them if

stored away, quickly forgotten

in these busy busy

days. Somehow dust and

decay will get at

them as time also

wreaks havoc on this

aging dying shell of

someone once youth-full captured

in these old photos.

 

© 2017 L. Tafa

 

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Author: b20f08

I enjoy solo wargaming and writing. The first caters to the boy that never grew up; the latter satisfies a deep desire to communicate. Cheers.

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