An old photograph stirs lingering love.

Your eyes watch me

from the photo

soft     warm     like the abyss

of a deep chasm.


Your gaze     as alive

as when captured     in our youth

holds me     still


your smell     your touch


our time     our love    

reaching me now     as deep    

as those eyes.


Do you watch me     in your

mind’s eye     hold my image

as I hold yours     from time to time

while     going about

life’s business?


Your eyes watch me     through history

and I wish     they were

taking me in anew     so I could

once more     look into your soul.


c. Kathryn Coughran

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