Treasure Island

John F. McCullagh

(09/28/1954 / Flushing)

Photographs Without Memories

Not on your lips,
No, not anytime soon.
Your mind has become
Like the dark side of the moon.
Full of holes and lacunae
and dark shadowy walls.
Sometimes words fail you,
More often, recall.
I show you a picture
Of when you were young
I can see it’s a struggle,
on the tip of your tongue.
I wish you could help me
Match names and faces
Caught here in print
In silvery traces
If only a synapse could snap into place
Give you back the dignity
That time has erased.
Then you could name these comrades
headed off to the war.
Maybe then could you tell me
where past years are.

Submitted: Thursday, January 02, 2014
Edited: Friday, January 03, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

kudos to Croce

Comments about this poem (Photographs Without Memories by John F. McCullagh )

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  • Susan Lacovara (1/2/2014 8:52:00 PM)

    As in Jim Croce' s Photographs and Memories...a song I love, and a poem of similar sweetness...nicely penned. PEACE (Report) Reply

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