A photograph that reminded me of a photograph

This is a first draft and I may have to delete this post should Mimo Khair think it does not do justice to her own photograph. Here is a LINK TO Mimo's Photoblog.

A Photograph that Reminded Me of a Photograph

for Mimo Khair

A friend showed me her photograph of the children who took her

away from the entrance to the Valley of the Nobles, the ancient

tombs cut from stone. In place of silence and eternity, she surrendered

to the call of giggles and handmade dolls. Small, dusty hands

clasped hers. Off she was led to their houses amid a made up chant

of her name, as if a long lost playmate had returned home.

Yellows and reds and wide smiles in that photograph

echoed a desert trip in India with my family. We expected

camels and vast stretches of nothing but sky and sand.

Not the laughter of children in bright floral saris, their hysterical

screams that made our twins withdraw. We should have

stayed a while longer in that village until their voices

settled. Instead we kept to schedule, caught

the paid-for camel ride into the sunset.

Without permission I stole their laughter,

stored it in my cellphone camera. Those children

who only wanted to play with our children

before we disappeared from them forever.

-o-

 

 

A very good friend from an online poetry critique group suggested I try shorter lines with this. So here. Please tell me what you think.

-o-

A Photograph that Reminded Me of a Photograph

for Mimo Khair

A friend showed me her photograph

of the children who took her away

from the entrance to the Valley of the Nobles,

the ancient tombs cut from stone. In place of silence

and eternity, she surrendered to the call

of giggles and handmade dolls.

Small, dusty hands clasped hers. Off she was led

to their houses amid a made up chant

of her name, as if a long lost playmate

had returned home.

Yellows and reds and wide smiles

in that photograph echoed a desert trip in India

with my family. We expected camels

and vast stretches of nothing but sky and sand.

Not the laughter of children in bright floral saris,

their hysterical screams that made our twins

withdraw. We should have stayed a while longer

in that village until their voices settled.

Instead we kept to schedule, caught

the paid-for camel ride into the sunset.

Without permission I stole their laughter,

stored it in my cellphone camera.

Those children who only wanted

to play with our children

before we disappeared

from them forever.

-o-

 

Filed under: Asia, Fragments and Moments, Influences, Life in a different world, Mga Tula / Poetry, poetry, Uncategorized Tagged: children, India, Jaisalmer, Jim Pascual Agustin, Mimo Khair, photography