To take advantage of imposed social isolation, I considered sorting through stacks of family photos that never made it into albums. The photos are still unsorted, but the poem that arose is dedicated to my daughters Julie and Lisa.
She stood with her toes in the sand,
the tide lapping at her heels,
a small shell looking large in her little hand,
and the sunlight on her face beaming back at me,
and I loved the moment so much that
I turned away from it to find my camera
so I could save the moment I had just left,
but when I returned I was still apart,
for the lens lay between me and the moment
as I shifted the camera this way and that.
The moment didn’t wait –
it moved on and left me with nothing to save
but a self-conscious grimace.
Now the memories of lost moments spread before me
like sheet music of children’s melodies
that can never be played again
but I take the lesson learned and
revel in a young woman’s concerto,
sometimes mournful, sometimes spirited,
played live in the moment.
For those of you who wonder whether I decided to continue 12 months of Christmas: I now celebrate the spirit of Christmas present by giving gifts when a need or opportunity arises but without promise or expectation. The gift giving has already begun, and it’s joyful indeed.
Your poem is poignant. Mary is currently putting pics of grandchildren into scrapbooks for them. Been working for many days.
Nice to hear from you, Tom. What a wonderful gift for grandchildren! For them, the photos will surely be moments FOUND, not lost.
True some moments are lost forever; however, there are so many captured as my piles of unsorted photos attest.
I knew that some – possibly many – readers would feel that way, and I’m happy for all those who do.
I also have gone through pictures periodically sorting them and making albums for our kids and grandkids. I related to your poem and many saved and lost memories. I also have been meaning to ask you about your Christmas present decision. I love your choice and have been a recipient of one of your thoughtful gifts. A joy indeed for both us!
Always happy to hear your comments, Imo Jeane.
Those moments obscure
Resurface fleetingly
Bring pictures of joy
Nice haiku, Carol! I’m guessing that the “pictures of joy” it refers to are the ones you see in your heart.
How very lovely. We so want to capture a moment that is always fleeting.
Thank you, Gwynne.
You may have missed photographing the moment, but you captured the scene beautifully in your first four lines!! I really loved the poem. Thank you Sally.
And I loved your comment.