Traces Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

[Losses brought forward from 1970]


An image retrieved from the USB
Shows a girl in a drill-knit turtleneck -
High cheeks, her hair swept up. She looks at me
She is strong, she is afraid - she turns to check.

Kindly, she has been scanned as a keepsake.
Such likeness no longer hurts me or her:
For goodness sake, long lost, our joy's mistake.
But I too turn from present strength to fear.

Traces of love that didn’t work out right
Memories of guilt in bits and pieces
Smiles that were better never brought to life
I close my eyes until the prayer ceases.

Two score years and five and still I live
Trusting we who failed must now forgive.