Before:
She lay bare
across the canopy bed
waiting for fingers
so familiar
she trembles
before his touch.
Outside:
Grandkids chatter
jump rope clicks
baseball smacks leather
“She touched me!”
“Did not!”
Inside:
He fills her
with whispers
of promises
kept.
After:
She poses for
the snapshot
hidden between pages
until mourners
discover Grandma,
for the first time,
human.
Richard M. O’Donnell ’s works have appeared in Everyday Poets, Everyday Fiction, Sniplits, North Coast Review, Bear Grrr, Binaryorganic, Mind Fair, Kaleidoscope, Heartlands, Many Voices, The Gamut, Diskazine, The Alchemist, Telescope, Intro and The Plum Creek Review. He is the co-founder of The Oberlin Writers Group where he is working on his novel, Flowers and Arrows. His play Daddy Allen, the Easter Seals Story is forthcoming from TrueNorth Cultural Arts. His online publication links can be accessed at www.wormsview.com .
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9 Responses to “THE PHOTOGRAPH • by Richard M. O'Donnell”
Comments
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February 17th, 2010 at 2:33 am
lovely piece
February 17th, 2010 at 6:57 am
Interesting poem capturing the way a single flash memory can characterise a remembered person or a life. I like the idea of the labels.
February 17th, 2010 at 7:33 am
Hmmm. Interesting. Nicely done.
February 17th, 2010 at 11:19 am
Sweet! This one brought a smile. (Wonder if she knew she’d left that picture there?)
February 17th, 2010 at 12:24 pm
Just lovely. especially the 1st and final stanzas.
February 17th, 2010 at 3:04 pm
Even better on the re-read! Enjoyed this and thought that Grandma hawt.
February 17th, 2010 at 9:13 pm
Yes, this one gets better with the re-reading.
February 17th, 2010 at 11:45 pm
Wonderful poem!
February 18th, 2010 at 2:32 pm
I really like this.