Kith and

She wrote words for me.

She left me pictures

And seeing his smile again

Their smiles

Shoes I wore in that photo sitting in his lap

They hang now on the wall

Old photos

Ancient in many regards

The black and white faded with age

The water did not get them

But time will.

Look at her ruffles,

Their unsmiling eyes

I marvel again at how hard it must have been

To marry a stranger

To wear fine white with layer upon layer

Of delicate fabric and stitches taken

By hand

A stranger standing there in a dark suit

His hair combed back from his dark eyes

No hint there of the Erickson blues

That emerged in later generations

Nor the blond hair which adorned many a baby


I study the archive

I now have one

In my home,

And among the beloved faces

The faces I wish I could see once more

The voices I yearn to hear

The arms I cannot embrace anymore

I see strangers

And yet not exactly strange, but…



~ by Rebecca Erickson on October 19, 2015.

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