In Photos - Poem by Patti Masterman
In photos we get a two dimensioned view of the past;
The past was never short of dimensions
But it is our feeling part that's missing
Old images of self are curiously cold, impassive;
Smiling or frowning, they have the same feel,
Removed from us, by time and space,
They could be a million years distant, or only one.
Is there any other way, in life
That you can stare at yourself, as an observer
And not have any idea what thoughts are present?
That is life every day, lived in a dark vacuum;
Life knowing not it's own mind, any more
Than each second, something gets born
And each second, something dies-
And is buried, without even a name.
Comments about In Photos by Patti Masterman
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye