The Forgotten Unmoving

From a sheet of chipped ambrotype plate glass,

Forgotten faces of long lost ghosts stare at me,

Years they pose, unmoved by damages to their layered protector,

Their eyes are black, their expressions differ.

Forgotten faces of long lost ghosts stare at me,

Garbed in their best dresses, their hair pulled neatly  back,

Their eyes are black, their expressions differ,

While the old woman smirks, the younger keeps a stern composure.

Garbed in their best dresses, their hair neatly pulled back,

Shoulders straight, holding up for the long photo wait,

While the old woman smirks, the younger keeps a stern composure,

An ochre wash colors the image, but is lifted by a dark backing.

Shoulders straight, holding up for the long photo wait,

The photo technician had coated the back of the plate with black collidium paint,

An ochre wash colors the image, but is lifted by a dark backing,

Down the middle of the plate, a thick crack grows across the moment of still time.

The photo technician had coated the back of the plate with black collidium paint,

Rushed and careless, he left distinct fingerprints behind that outlived him,

Down the middle of the plate, a thick crack grows across the moment of still time,

The ghostly image has survived one hundred and fifty years.

Rushed and careless, he left distinct fingerprints behind that outlived him,

Forgotten faces of long lost ghosts stare at me,

Years they pose, unmoved by damages to their layered protector,

From a sheet of chipped ambrotype plate glass.

Copyright: The Connecticut Review and Kendall Smith