Cherished are the moments when
We gathered in front of the photographer’s screen
Poised in mirth and aplomb,
Forever captured for endurance sake.
But heed this warning:
Long after the camera flashed,
And the film was developed,
After the “right” picture was chosen,
Picked up from the studio, and hung prominently on the wall,
The eternal clock was set into motion
Counting down the days and years when each and every person
Captured in this resplendent canvas
Will no longer have breath to praise it
Or eyes to behold the memories it encased.
Each beating heart, so full of life in this picture
Beats to this clock, but ever time moves on.
Eventually, hearts stop; lives fall short,
Returning to the dust from which it began.
Yet, just as the original authors intended
This picture, displayed on the living room wall,
Captured every family member’s likeness
To remind all that come before and after
Of that person’s form and feature.
Thus, one’s moments of happiness
Is also one’s living curse.
In the end, after the final stroke of the predetermined hour,
Those who smiled for the camera
Now Only smile from behind the canvas’s frame.