Catching the Past

The film reels,
the harsh cold almost silence
of the wind whipping across the microphone
of an old video recorder.

In the distance, you can glimpse the
colorless sand of a three-piece playground,
generic playthings made of hollow plastic
and worn away paint.

Youth is captured in the bright, brown hair of a woman
sitting precariously on a flimsy space ship
held up by a fluctuating rusty coil.

A small piece of the youthful woman
balances in her lap
and the wind whisks away the sound of the child laughing
at this easy entertainment.

So simple the captured past.

1/22/09
Tatiana Robinson
from They Say Your Tears Are Warm