Black and White and Long Ago

Covering the dining room table,
ancestor photos, like a teller’s cards.
Unknown in those photographed moments,
now their fortunes are unfolded.

Every person in every photo
once alive, as we three cousins
sit and sort, and try
to comprehend their days.

Tender gaze of a radiant woman
next to her precious granddaughter.
Sisters, three, shoulder to shoulder
in long summer dresses with arms entwined.

In the array of faces of three generations,
we look for likeness, we seek out kindness.
And one picture with a figure’s face cut out
makes us long to redeem the pain.

We peer and guess at their feelings,
we want to know what they learned,
how they experienced their stories.
We want them to levitate and tell us

A murmur rises from the table.
Their love continues, and they tell us:
Because we lived, we’ve gifted you
your precious chance to be.

            ©Susa Silvermarie 2025