Fading Photographs
I look inside my photo album
seeing fading photographs in black and white.
There is one of me riding on a trike.
Oh, there’s another. Gosh, I look a fright.
My front teeth have two spaces
where some new teeth soon would grow.
I look so plain with hair cropped short.
Oh, the things back then I did not know!
Things about my future, my children and my spouse.
How innocent I was – life was still brand new.
These photographs – like me back then – did not use to be
worn with age; they were photos I could clearly see.
Here’s one of my father. Mental illness stole his joy.
That’s why he looks sad.
Mother had to leave him; back to the farm she went.
He was the dad I never really had.
Here’s one of my sisters (we four the Miller girls),
and the eldest one am I.
Like this picture, we are also fading.
Who will be the first of us to die?
That’s a question I would not have pondered
in my fresh and younger days.
The path ahead of us which seemed long
is now for all of us in autumn’s phase.
And here’s a photo of my red-haired stepbrother.
I loved him so; his name was Dale.
Only the good die young, and he was very good.
We lost dear Dale -he’s now beyond the veil.
Fading photographs like most of these
still have a lot of time to last.
I wonder if anyone will ever view them
long after I and those I love have passed.
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