Old Photos

Penny Wilson Writes

Pieces of paper that hold a link to the past.
The edges are curled; they won’t lay flat.

In shades of grey and black they are bound to the page.
Eyes that no longer see, from a long ago age.

My history, I’m told, in the faces of that time.
The images are cold; frozen in time.

These strangers we cling to, a link to the past.
We long to connect; a link to be grasped.

We close the album pages; trusting again
We’re leaving a link, for our family & friends.

Copyright © 2017 Penny Wilson

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