Photograph
Her photograph had faded
over the years, its corners
bent, the once off-white border
discolored from finger-oil.
Over time she slipped inside
a plastic sleeve; her visage
turning softer, her smile
faraway yet forgiving.
To be sure no words matched
the strength of her photograph,
her haunting thoughts
filling my dreams.
january two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
january 18 2012
I came across J Matthew Waters‘ poem via a word game I play on twitter. His poem Photograph resonated with me because as a portrait photographer I try to make portraits that will fill peoples dreams.
