The things I do not keep

Old photographs are kept in kodak envelopes

in boxes beneath the bed; paper with tinged

edges – that one time in the garden, my brother’s

brown eyes, a Bratz birthday cake and a water fight,

& my divorced parents’ wedding. I keep them

to not keep them. 

I do not wish to display them 

in the shadows of a passing day, dust

collecting about their frames. In fact,

I do not display any photographs and 

I suppose I should believe this is selfish. 

But, I read faces like books and in so few words

on silent paper, I see guilt, disappointment

and obligation. I see love posed for shutter seconds

and smiles which will fade with age.

In life I see death and in death I see life. 

I guess what I mean is, photographs remind me

of endings and goodbyes; 

they remind me how most things

are irretrievable with time, like the innocence

in my brother’s brown eyes.



Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020

My poetry collections:

Flowers on the Wall UK

Flowers on the Wall US

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

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