In A Past Life, I Was A Photograph
The ground is frozen solitude;
the path obstructed by tear-shaped icicles.
In a different time and space,
we were laughing and singing in the rain.
We found warmth in the sun;
always avoiding the shade and shadow – we shined brightest in the day.
Now, memories are cut into pieces of pixels and thought.
We once had a vibrancy – a glow.
In a different place, we were together; yet, we are apart in this space.
In that past life, we were alive.
Here – we are just photographs.
Shantha Marie Fountain