The Photograpph Poem by Jerry Buckley

Something about the angle, the tossing of the head to one side;
as if in defiance of a mother’s injunctions to sit still for the camera.

Something in the clarity of beguiling brown eyes, brilliant as a harvest moon, taking in more of life than they could process; more than they were given credit for.

Something in the folding of those dainty hands, one overriding the other, suggesting a balance of emotions, a gravity of inner thoughts beyond her years.

Something in the attitude, a stance neither smile nor sneer; an openness to discussion as to what or who she was to become, a willingness, an eagerness to be molded into shape.

Was the schoolgirl in this photograph dreaming, another was dreaming back at her? Some snaggle-toothed boy in a checkered shirt, head cocked for his own school days photo.

Was she discerning then, her path would chart to intersect, to intercept, and accommodate another’s? That very time itself would be warped, new worlds birthed, new orbits established around her star?

Voice of One @ Jerry Buckley