Pieces of paper that hold a link to the past.
The edges are curled; they won’t lay flat.
In shades of grey and black they are bound to the page.
Eyes that no longer see, from a long ago age.
My history, I’m told, in the faces of that time.
The images are cold; frozen in time.
These strangers we cling to, a link to the past.
We long to connect; a link to be grasped.
We close the album pages; trusting again
We’re leaving a link, for our family & friends.
Copyright © 2017 Penny Wilson
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Penny Wilson is a freelance writer who writes in several genres. She has written articles for WOW Women on Writing. Her poetry has been published in online journals, such as Ariel Chart, Spill Words Press and the Poppy Road Review. Penny is a member of the Austin Poetry Society. Her poetry has been featured in the publication America's Emerging Poets 2018 & 2019 by Z Publishing and Poets Quarterly and Dual Coast Magazine published by Prolific Press. Penny is an advocate for Mental Health Awareness and has the page "Mental Health Help" on her blog. She writes about the struggles of mental illnesses and Depression. She is passionate about spreading awareness for Suicide Prevention and
Domestic Abuse. She expresses her passion through her writings of poetry and life experiences. You can find more of her writings on her blog at https://pennywilsonwrites.com/ and follow her on Twitter @pennywilson123.
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6 thoughts on “Old Photos”
The message in this post really resonates with me as I was tasked with sorting through my mom’s photo albums awhile ago. It was a monumental job, but I managed to get the pix sorted and given to family members.
I understand that. When my mother passed, the only thing my siblings and I had to divide between us were the old family photos. A bitter-sweet task. Thanks, as always, Audrey, for visiting. ❤ ❤
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
Thanks for sharing, Chuck!
Awesome post Penny! Love it, love it!
Thank you, Dear Friend! ❤
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