SUNDAYS, WE POSE
Sundays, we pose outside the gate,
facing the light in best dress,
three in knee pants, one in bows,
standing with our mother
and the dogs and cats du jour
or with the heavy aunts,
the card-playing sisters
who laugh throaty laughs
and smoke forbidden fags.
Dutifully, we squint
at the father husband brother
behind the black box
who waits for the light to be just right,
who will become for us a shadow on the ground.
That's lovely Karen, there is something sad about old photo and life contained and passing at the same time.
ReplyDeleteI liked the heavy aunts and the card-playing sisters too!
Yes, I agree: it is a lovely response to the prompt. Excellent.
ReplyDeleteVery nice.
ReplyDeleteLove that - "Dutifully, we squint"
Karen the whole was doing just great until that last line when it went from great to very great!
ReplyDeleteI agree with the walking man - the last line tells the whole story right there. It's great!
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ReplyDeleteLovely, lovely nostalgia, perfectly captured
ReplyDeletethanks for sharing
martine
Delightful take on the prompt. A great snapshot of the times that were in it.
ReplyDeleteI was very tempted by this photo as well, but you did a brilliant job of it and I agree with some of the others, the last line makes it superb.
ReplyDeleteLOVE this, Karen. I particularly love the last line about the cast shadow of the photographer. So true!
ReplyDeleteYou helped me to remember my own Sunday mornings when my sisters and I would be dressed in our 'sister look-alike' clothes, and my brother, who always refused to smile for those posed photos. (I think he despised wearing the suit.) Thanks for bringing the memories with your poetry!
This is lovely ... Sundays were our photo snapping days too. I look back and realize my father took most of our pictures ... he is in very few of them. He died at the age of 46, I wish he had let a few others stand behind that camera.
ReplyDeleteI think you must be related to me. My heavy aunts, my blurry cats
ReplyDeleteFunny how those moments are so tiny, yet seem to stretch forever.
ReplyDeleteThe invisible person behind the lens makes a strong impression in this magpie...
ReplyDeleteI agree! The poem is excellent, and the last line makes it even better. What a unique and strong image. We've got some of those shadow pictures floating around in the family, too. I've always wondered about the person behind the lens. And you put it into poem. Bravo!
ReplyDeleteI love those heavy aunts and card-playing sisters, too. You give them even more life with the throaty laughs and forbidden fags. Karen, you always delight me with your work. Fantastic!
Excellent stuff... you do such a good job of exploding stories out of the tiny details, leading to the hints of more stories past those. A tough job. :)
ReplyDeleteOh, I like it, with the photographer always missing from his own family photos.
ReplyDeletestrightforward storytelling/ an image frozen in time/ Well told. thank you
ReplyDelete