Traces of Absence

The photograph
Sepia enhanced memories
A father in bib overalls
A mother with flowered house dress
Peace and poverty
All as one
One as all

How voracious a picture lives
Sympathetic to no one
Aggressively accountable to only itself
Alive
And well

This pin prick
This 3 X 5 reminder
Knows presence is but its dependent
The past forever its legacy

So

Hold your portraits real
Watch them grow and transcend
From developer tray
To fixer
To frame
To inevitable fade

And even though

Photographs may lose their luster
Their original images remain
Archived in the heart’s scrapbook
Free of outside erosion

Yet

Some would argue
We have evolved into an eternal “cloud” era
Where 3D or holographic archiving will represent our mortality
Because it’s cool
It’s in
It’s…
Truly alive
Some would say

But lest we forget

Sepia toned loved ones
Remain simple images
And like lasting memories
Transcend their aging

To truly advance

Is to abide by
The beating beneath one’s chest
Time’s quiet cadence
Remaining alive
Endlessly promoting the journey
Beyond mere digitized love
Protecting instead
One’s personal metronome
Passion’s rhythmic colors
Its traces of absence