Old Photographs

In the attic- I found a dusty album, of great mama, going back from death to baptism. And I took a trip timeworn and so sweet to fathom, snap shots old, someone that loved had placed with wisdom; first, is a faint snap of a baby in Autumn, and then, black and white, bleached out, disappearing pictures, of great mama, going back from death to baptism; pose to pose, a story is told that still life C A P T U R E S. Here, is a little girl clutching a reluctant cat, and great mama as a young woman in a strange hat. A snap of family as in a garden they sat, and here you balance a bike as you stop to chat; I only recall you with a double chin and fat. All day, I looked at old snaps on thick black pages, and great mama as a young woman in a strange hat; and beneath a wedding trellis throwing K I S S E S. But one photo makes me pause- touches my heart, of six young men in a photo hand colored like art. These smiling faces soon to war will be torn apart, and on the back, their names in ink someone did chart. On a list of the war dead these men are part, neatly folded beside their photo to remind us; of six young men in a photo hand colored like art. Each photo within this album is a moment B R E A T H L E S S . Weeping, I hold the book of photographs to my heart . . . ___________________________ November 3, 2017 Poetry/Rhyme/Old Photographs Copyright Protected, ID 17-9783-49-0 All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym. ____________________ Written for the contest, Rhyme Time II sponsor, Laura Loo First Place