Snapshot

557
  0%
  0

Tags

A poem, inspired by an old photograph.

 I remember the roughness
of the grass
'neath my feet
as I chased your laughter 
your tiny steps

perfectly matched 
by the largeness 
of the man
whose fingers 
you clutched

safe in your 
toddler world.
Alas, the footsteps
become silent
the hand falls away

All that remains
are the memories
of steps once taken
Trapped in pictures
fading to grey....

Global Scriggler.DomainModel.Publication.Visibility
There's more where that came from!