The Photograph
I don’t recognize myself;
this is not uncommon,
but he seems to me
like a white root
suddenly exposed to sooty clouds;
a tendril unearthed
by quarrying shadows.
A grainy tinge shades vacant eyes.
In the distance, tenement towers -
grey tusks in a monochrome sky.
A callus of light is seen in the distance
it reveals just enough of him
to spook the dead.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2019
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