Photographs Are Spells Poem by rosalinda flores rosevoc

Dear Photographs, you make me cry, sobs of joy or grief because you don't talk and you let me remember vivid life
Worst than nightmares, like riding a roller coaster or a crazy horse
The emotions seize you a spell, a well of tears far beyond your everyday errands
Cardboards and chipped papers, black or white, colored
From a tint of clarity to a streaked sunlight on mirrors
Mouths that don't speak, or eyes that don't blink
Hands that don't touch, the capture of time and life in a moment, real - ponderously beautiful or flashy and alive
Dear Photographs, you make me cry, sobs of joy or grief because you don't talk and you let me remember vivid life
But yes, you assure me that all these shall pass, too, but a gold snap of the moment, once a breath in time, of God's gift for always.
Ready, 'Cheers! '

/rosevoc.070822 7: 11PM