Pictures of My Past

by

Faye Hoffman

A tattered bag,
from long ago.
Hidden back,
and not for show.

Tucked behind,
an old bookcase.
In a dusty pile,
in needless space.

Through rows of tape,
and old design.
With shaky hands,
I look inside.

Tied with a ribbon,
my memories amassed.
Just some weathered photos.
Three pictures of my past.

One of a Father,
whose face has faded black.
A man I can't remember.
That's never coming back.

A brother and a sister,
that I will never see.
Two familiar people who,
keep looking back at me.

On a cracked and folded paper,
one image always lasts.
The one of my mother.
The broken picture of my past.

I'll put my memories back together.
Tie the ribbon once again.
Hide my hurt inside this tattered bag.
Where my heart has always been.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Área Central
by: Akio
from: Yokohama, Kanagawa, Japan

To visit all of Faye Hoffman's poems, click HERE

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