Moments caught in time,
there for us whenever we want to look back
and see who we were, what we were,
and how far we’ve come.
But what of those past selves of us caught in the frame,
forever in that moment
as the shutter clicked,
marbled into the scene forever more?
What if they can see you looking back at them,
wondering how you got so much older,
or when your eyes went from bright and open
to puffed and dark.
Where did that scar come from,
what does that tattoo mean,
and how long have you been wearing that wedding band?
Would they be impressed by you,
or worried at how much life has stamped on your neck
and left you face down in the mud?
Would they wish that they could trade places
and hold hands with your spouse
and hold debates with your friends
or would they seek to bar the window against you forever?
Would they recognise you
or are you a stranger
with their face?
Treeshallow Musings 