Saturday, October 26, 2013

Everything Hurts

And of my fears?

I am afraid

to stare into the eyes of the young creature in the photo.
Decked out 
in over-starched lace 
and linens.

I am afraid to know what happens there. 

I am afraid because I know the story.
I know the story, but I see some unnamed truth there as well.
Dead men, women, and children walking.
All walking.
A barbaric yet understandable use of the primitive camera lens. 

Film and the ability to capture a moment in time. 

It all hurts.
Everything hurts.

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