In the attic lay my old school photo,
dishevelled hair, shy, I stand,
with the terrible trio that terrorized the class,
away from the ponytail-girl with who I was paired,
but now we are scattered over in different shapes,
if our old teacher could piece us together,
who still walks that lane.
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Nostalgia and the raking over of faded memories can prove to be a tricky subject for poets,but you handled it very well indeed. I applaud the bold,decisive narrative strokes that convey to the reader the sense that the photograph ,as well as the Past that it represents,is somehow an integral whole and that it is the whole of the Past that is broken and scattered.The reader has this confirmed in the line, “..could piece us together”. Superb!
Wow! Thanks a ton, Louis. I love the way you have summed it up.
Oh! Brought up many emotions, well done!
Thanks Suzanne.