The Relatives...sepia tinged and almost forgotten

in #fiction8 years ago (edited)





There they are kept in humidors
smelling vaguely of lilac,

the brown photographs of relatives
whose names I've long forgotten;

Letters from World War One that begin,
"Somewhere in France, Dear Mother,"

Faces like seed that germinate
and within me reap their harvest.







Image Source: Pinterest

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love your work :)

thank you, dreemsteem

You're welcome :)

I love that last line.

I love anything sepia....words, memories, even songs have sepia tones for me. Your poem sounds like a tribute to someone very special, maybe a parent, a mother?
The tones behind your words are warm and caring. This may sound a bit awkward but I have a see/feel thing with words - and your writing in particular is lyrical. Both your poetry and short stories.

I appreciate that, countrygirl :)

you're perceptive, @countrygirl - I guess everything I write and say is lyrical - maybe it's the Irish in me :)

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