who is this little boy?
that gazes up from my parents’ photos
no smile to be had
only an unhappy haunted expression
from an old black and white portrait
digitalized into eternity
he stares intently into the camera
voice vibrating psychically
amid the greyscale
find...identify me
for until then I cannot move on
his image discovered in
a mish mash of
unrelated family photos
with no writing on the back
the relatives don’t recall him
more so the older ones
not one of your cousins
they all say
so for now
the mystery continues
or as someone pointed out
on Facebook
maybe that haunted little boy
is me
I cannot help but think of a greyscale photo of me as a little boy looking so sad. Your piece makes me think it would be an interesting voyage trying to get into the psyche of that sad little boy now probably 70 years later. I found your poem to be poignant and evocative, Chris. Thank you.
