Pictures of a Child

Pictures of a Child – January/June 2015


I’ve seen them here before, these photos:

Propped amidst the books about the mind, subconsciousness,

And a lie detector that line the office shelves.

Save the piece of glass that makes these windows

To the past, this child I’d forget.

The one whose stare moves nevermore, forever held

To something just beyond the frame.


A child wild-haired, with eyes full-grown

That stare hard, without pardon,

Blue as the sky and as far away.

They do not smile but to falling snow

Or while laughing naked in a wild garden.

They harden elsewhere, in lover’s arms lain

Too young for words with too much to say.


I look again upon them, these portraits

And like them I grow estranged

Of what once was, but is no more;

I look now and see at last: my Dorian.

But it was I who forfeited, and forfeited to age.

Still, I look and can hardly believe this pictured lore.

Were I and this boy really once the same?