The Innisfree Poetry Journal www.innisfreepoetry.org by John Delaney
Two Photos (1951, 2010)
All of us face the firing camera
as if nothing mattered, only smiles did. I was barely two, and the three of you, in pigtails and bangs and party dresses, could boast of six and nine and almost twelve. Poor baby brother, I was the spoiled kid. To reach the other photo, each had to cross
a crevasse, a chasm, a grand canyon of sixty years. In formal dress, two clasp wine glasses, all link arms to celebrate, with white hair, a beard, three colored hairstyles, surviving divorces, children, careers— yet mostly time, that promised nothing back when nothing mattered. But no one knew that then. Copyright 2006-2012 by Cook Communication |