Here we go
=The photograph was dull,
Faded;
one of those black and whites.
It smelled strange,
musty;
carried the aroma of age.
The photograph had captured
a woman,
youthful.
I know her identity
but her face, her body:
it's unrecognizable.
The still frame
portrayed her,
arms thrust in the air,
balancing on one leg,
the other leg
swept backwards,
statuesque,
like a delicate ballerina.
She's frozen,
a look of ecstasy
painted on her face.
Now, she’s changed.
she old, stiff;
her body bearing the years
of her maturity.
But the change
is merely physical;
in her heart,
she is the same woman,
only wiser,
than the one snapped
with that Box Brownie
all those decades ago.
