She caresses
the framed photos’ glass,
with the excuse that she is dusting,
ten times a day.

It’s her ritual,
her private little mass
now they can’t talk anymore
the way they did.

Ten times a day
while touching his face,
she says:
“So smooth you are today.”

When time goes by,
the photo falls at times,
knocked over
by her trembling hand.

The cracks in the glass
are dear to her as well.
“This way you age
the same as I do,” so she claims.


Comments on: "Touching" (8)

  1. Oh this is fabulous!! Another of my all time favourites of yours! Wish Id written this 😊 L&H xx

  2. I love the wa you capture the essence of her private connection with the photograph

  3. The details here of the photo and the ritual speak so deeply to the emotional connection of the poem. And those cracks, ah, such a perfect way you turn them into endearments.

  4. deeply touching and observant of the human heart and loss and love…and so very visual, like watching a strip of ancient film…a masterful and moving piece Ina…

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