A Line To The Past

We keep a digital photo-frame in our kitchen. Nearly all our family photos are on it cycling continually through. One day I saw a picture of my grandson Hugo flying a kite on Selsey Common. It was one of those moments one is unprepared for.

Hugo steadfast, looking up
The kite string taut reaching for the sky
Now gazing past the photo frame
Into that day so long ago
The thrumming line
The sharp rattle of the kite
I remember your thrill
The indulgent grandma smile
This grandfather’s pleasure in a joy passed on.

I am angry.
I am hurt.
I am bitter.

How can it be that moments such as these exist?
All moments should be framed
with loss.

If you would like to hear me reading this poem then click  here alternatively you might feel your time is better spent looking at pictures of kites, if so click here!!

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