Blogging · poetry · Prose

Her Photo Album…

All credit to Ghostwriter

 

As I thumbed
page after page
looking through
her photo album,
lacking a photograph,
or two
of me,

Burned them, she did
tore them out of their corners
removing any mention
any memory of my
existence,

Gone was I,
the times, we spent together
both good and bad
the view by the lake,
snowy and frozen
her coat hastily laid
the sirens still echoed
flashing lights, raised voices,

No one was saved that day
no one returned home,
freezing but comforted
in the thought of life
being so fragile,

She left that day
left as if she never
existed,
leaving me unconscious
dead to the world,
alive yet,
dreaming my dreams,

When I awoke
when I tried to find
when I tried to pick up the pieces
weave together what memories
what happened that day

We took a walk
her and I
along the frozen lake,
she dared me out
out onto the ice

Falling,
a cold numbness pervaded
my thoughts,
the lack of warmth
the lack of knowing
was I dead, or alive?

Her album
sent to my address
never knowing if I,
if I had returned
if I had remembered…

The last photo
torn, but taped together
residing on the final page
of our life together

Yours with love
never to part

Yours forever
never to be

together….

 

 

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