Photograph
For my father, who was, but shouldn’t have been
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PHOTOGRAPH
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A fleeting encounter
like an unopened rose,
remains eternally
inside a withered heart.
Never to blossom
on a summer day,
never to slowly fade.
Time mellows into memory
His face, his voice,
Cushioning past intensity.
Once a storm,
Now a photograph.
© to Anne Frandi-Coory – All Rights Reserved
The emotion is alive and well here, nicely done, Anne.
“Once a storm”. A torrent of within three words. Bravi, Anne. Thank you for showing me this photograph.