Faded Photographs Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

Cracked edges, a sepia sigh,
dust motes dancing in a sunbeam,
illuminating faces, ghosts of laughter.

A woman's smile, frozen mid-bloom,
her dress, a whisper of a bygone style,
the fabric's pattern, a forgotten language.

A man's hand, resting on a child's shoulder,
the grip, a silent promise,
now just a shade of warmth, a phantom pressure.

The backdrop, a garden, a street, a sea,
blurred, impressionistic,
the details lost to time's tender erosion.

These faded photographs,
palimpsests of memory,
layered with the ache of absence.

Each crease, a story untold,
each stain, a tear unshed,
each faded hue, a whisper of what was.

They hold the weight of years,
the ephemeral nature of moments,
the slow, deliberate vanishing of being.

What stories do they conceal?
What lives did they capture?
And what fragments of ourselves remain,
trapped within their fragile frames?