Old photo albums give a glimpse
Of
how we used to look.
We
try to gauge our happiness
From
pictures that we took.
Some
snapshots catch us laughing,
Maybe
in a silly pose,
Or
with clothes and hair so retro
We’re
surprised that’s what we chose.
There’s
a sadness, too, in pages
Where
the posers, filled with mirth,
Are
a stark reminder life is short
Since
they’ve now left the earth.
Still,
I love to scan the faces
And
remember each event
When
we couldn’t ever picture
All
the people we’d lament.
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