There is a photograph, Taken so long ago, That adorns the fridge of my family home, Held fast by some cheap magnet, Bought on a holiday, That I do not remember.
The photograph was taken, In the tropical heat, Of my childhood. In a country that has changed so, Now only residing in my memory, It's physical form warped beyond recognition.
The photograph is of my brother and I, With the love of siblings, Refusing to stand close, My mother would have pleaded with us, We must have won that battle. We would not be smiling otherwise.
But now the photograph has faded, The figures have become anonymous, Emotionless - our faces have faded to paper white. All that is left are twin sets of brown eyes, That refuse to melt into the background.