Your photograph in my hall watches me
passing by, as I move about my house.
You share the expression of Mother's eyes;
my Grandmother's nose would etch the same
fine line as yours in profile - a family
trait, which I have, perhaps, inherited.
From within your rosewood frame you haunt me,
though you have no name which I could verify.
I feel I know you. Were you Great Uncle?
Great Grandfather? If we'd both been alive
in the same century, we might have talked,
discovered we shared more than family…
But you're not forgotten, dark-haired, distant
relative who remains part of my life..
And I've linked this today to Poetry Pantry
