there is always
that one photo
that floats around the house,

that when you pick it up,  
picks up with it
a storm of memories

and jumbled feelings.

Still it floats
in random spaces,
lying in wait,

like a lioness
ready to pounce,
awaiting its prey*





___✒
●○
Cross reference: same poem (or at least same feeling; different words and different time-place)

I still can't look at your photograph
without choking up or getting ill
could I ever seriously consider
giving up my affections for you
why have you gone, so abruptly ahead?

Gazing upon your visage, on print
all knotted up and confused still
my emotions, rambling wild river
gaining us words no longer true
why am I left here with heart unfed?





___✒
○●