In front of an unfamiliar wall,
stands the couch,
the lamp,
the tablecloth
I still remember.
Three smiling faces,
blown up in my mind
and another, invisible,
convergence of molecules,
gathering of dreams,
that was me.
Their arms around each other,
a closer focus
and I can smell the excitement
Strong and vivid
as the aroma of festive noodles
surely steaming nearby
And another,
cropped out of the photographic evidence
but not
from the panoramic view my heart is guarding,
Eyes smiling through the lens
as if somehow aware
of my smile, he was shooting too
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
In front of an unfamiliar wall,
stands the couch,
the lamp,
the tablecloth
I still remember.
Three smiling faces,
blown up in my mind
and another, invisible,
convergence of molecules,
gathering of dreams,
that was me.
Their arms around each other,
a closer focus
and I can smell the excitement
Strong and vivid
as the aroma of festive noodles
surely steaming nearby
And another,
cropped out of the photographic evidence
but not
from the panoramic view my heart is guarding,
Eyes smiling through the lens
as if somehow aware
of my smile, he was shooting too
Poem about a photo taken by my father, of my mother pregnant with me and surrounded by her family
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