"Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." ~Thomas Gray

"Poetry unites." ~Anon

"Truth is such a rare thing, it is delightful to tell it." ~Emily Dickinson

Written by Rachel Green
She lives in Chesterfield, Derbyshire, United Kingdom
Her blog: When The Dogs Bite

Fading Memories

I remember my mother –
red-haired and five foot two
in her stockings.
Holding a bunch of roses
in front of gaily patterned
seventies wallpaper
she smiles at the camera,
pleased with the First, Second, Third
rosettes from the local flower show.

The roses are gone now
bulldozed to make way for a new road
when my father died,
but they live on
in a faded photograph
and my swiftly fading

Originally published on writer's personal blog.
Posted with consent of the writer.


  1. Leatherdykeuk said...
    Thank you for posting this :)
    Every Photo Tells A Story said...
    My pleasure, Rachel! Thank you:)
    WHY? said...
    Very touching poem! Especially the last line.
    Karen said...
    I've been looking at old family photos lately and wondering whether my memories are formed by the photos or are simply represented therein.

    Nice poem on the same theme -- sad, too.
    Leatherdykeuk said...
    Thank you both.

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