i stare at it,
a polaroid afterimage
haunt of detail—
a shutter flicker—
through a
white instant image frame.
residue of a moment
long gone...
never forgotten.
he never missed a detail,
never missed a moment
to zero in o
n
. never missed...
how i miss him,
his quirkiness,
his humor,
they way he saw
so much meaning
in what others find
trivial.
like this photo,
of a nose,
or rather,
me sketching
a nose—
not a rose—
a nose...
his
nose.
the same detail
i pencil-applied,
he gave it too
when the shutter flied.
this photo—
now held in my hands,
reminds me things went
beyond our plans.
Yet, this fact remains true,
It is a doorway back to you.
It is so much more, my love,
than a tormenting ghost—
is ever a reminder
to me
of who you loved the most.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, April 18, 2026.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: April 18th, 2026 07:52
- Comment from author about the poem: Part of the Afterimage collection. This is where it begins. Written with permission and dedicated to and inspired by Friendship’s shared poem, "When collaborations with a higher power fail", and photograph—and by her late husband, whose eye behind the lens captured more than just a moment.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell, Friendship
- In collections: Afterimage.
Offline)
Comments6
Argh! No photos of Poepye & Co's antics. Why not? WCAT! lol.
Orchi… now you know Popeyeus Glug Maximus Solus operates strictly off-camera… union rules and all. WCAT would never clear the chaos for public release. Why? Find out on WCAT! 😂
But you’re right… somewhere out there, there’s a reel of pure nonsense that would put this nose sketch to shame. Probably filed under “too powerful for human eyes." Or...you guessed it...WCAT! 🤣 🖤📸✍️🙏
Wistfully melancholic it brims with nostalgia and paints with memory a picture of what was but is no more. It bleeds with faded colors of the past that fill a soul with emotions lost and now found so nicely done my friend
Soren, this really means a lot…you felt the heart of it. That quiet ache of something gone but still present…that’s exactly where this sits for me. I’m grateful you met it there, my friend. Happy Sunday to you! 🖤📸✍️🙏
You are most welcome my friend and a wonderful day to you as well
Well written, Tristan. Paintings, drawings, mosaics, and now poems and stories are collectors of all my memories. Begging to be released. Thanks for the share.
Jerry, what you said about art collecting memories...yes, exactly…like those pieces hold more than we realize until the moment they open up. You are welcome, my friend. I am really glad it resonated. 🖤📸✍️🙏
The last few stanzas got me. I know that pain and it indeed cuts VERY deep!
Yes, it certainly does. Thank you, my friend. So glad that it resonated. 🖤📸✍️🙏
Time takes us all, but great art never fades.
Through time it seems to reveal more.
Poignant write that shows the love, maybe gone, but certainly not forgotton.
Paul, I appreciate that, my friend…that idea of time not erasing but revealing more was right at the core for me. And yeah…not gone, just held differently. Really glad that came through on your read. Always grateful for you. 🔥🪨🕯️🙏
Beautifully written. You write it so well, your poem is to convey the complexity of grief and the way memories can serve as both a source of pain and a means of connection to those we have lost. I love how you emphasize the importance of cherishing details and moments that hold significant emotional weight. Thank you.🌹💕
Friendship, this one doesn’t exist without you or your husband…that image and the love it conveyed to me as I saw it stayed with me and wouldn’t let go. I’m really grateful for the spark you gave it, my friend. I hope it did you both justice. 🔥🪨🕯️🙏
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