The hands
Upon the shoulders
Of soldiers knelt
In frame
Forms a photograph
Now of the dead
Another war
Thats quite insane.
In youth
Almost rebellion
Before combat
Photograph took
To lay within
The archives
Of an old case
Covered in dust.
When its contents
Are opened
Daylight falls
In slanted waves
Upon the young
And faces fresh
A simple memory
Of long gone days.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Online) - Published: October 20th, 2025 01:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Lorenz
Online)
Comments2
This to me evokes images forming a metaphor. An old photograph, a memory that is disregarded and a life the same lost in war both covered with dust the dead and old photograph lost in the past. A lovely and soft but sad reminder that neither the dead or photos have any worth in the present a fave
Most kind, thanking you and much appreciated
You are very welcome
Poem in soft sepia tone ...
correct, thanks for fave much appreciated
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