Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Rik George writes

The Photograph

I had not met the child you were 
until I saw the photograph 
that caught your eyes spread wide with fear. 
You sat on a step, hunched and cold, 
a waif who never hoped to laugh. 
I'd heard the tales your people told, 
crafting a happy long ago 
to hide dark things they'd rather forget. 
I asked what happenings compelled 
so sad a photo, hoping you 
might show a part of you as yet 
unknown to me. You would not say. 
You took the picture from me, and put 
the family photographs away.
 Image result for photograph images

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