Annie Johnson\An Old Photograph

Annie Johnson

An Old Photograph

An old photograph, tattered; Scarred and yellowed with age; All life gone, drained outward From once laughing eyes. What did it say when it was new; Did it speak to those who beheld it? How can it speak so softly now, With innocent lips still smiling An image of life, long spent? An image of breathing, pulled From stagnant air and musty attics; Old sealed trunks filled with time And a once treasured image, buried In the darkness of bygone tears. Time cannot revive the blurred image On the brittle photo paper of life. Oh, lost girl, gone to ‘God knows where’- Hopefully heaven has restored your smile And put the sparkle back in your eyes?