Tia Martha:
I watch the sun set on her
brittle braids-dappled
and dry like the fall lawn.
Her wrinkles reflect the branches of the tree
in the backyard-long lines
mirrored in me and the languid
live oak. We sit silently
for hours, listening to wind
the leaves channeling
the sound of time
through tired limbs.
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I was looking through my old hard drives from 2009 and found this. It’s a photo I took of my aunt Martha, a few months before she past away. She meant a great deal to me and I miss her and her voice telling me to always take care of myself.
She lived 10 hours from me and I would visit her a couple times a year and so one day I brought with me a large format camera I borrowed from school. I told her I wanted to photograph her but she refused. She said, “No, no. Come back tomorrow! I’ll be prepared”
So, I show up the next day and Tia Martha, had dyed her hair. It was this bright redish/brown color. She looked beautiful! I didn’t have the heart to tell her I only had black and white film. I don’t think she ever got to see the photo, but I hope she loves it just as much as I do.
Also, the poem was written to accompany the photo, only I don’t have the authors name anymore. But big thanks to her for helping make the photo come to life.
