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27 Tuesday Nov 2012
Posted in photograph
Observer
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kushtrimthaqi
Just another human being who's trying to reach new levels of consciousness.
Genuine Poetry
"...one discovers that there is in it after all, a place for the genuine." ~ Marianne Moore
annamosca
Poetic Landscapes Of The Spirit
Poetry On A Roll
"free-verse" poetry from the soul
Bukowski on Wry
Poetry and Prose By and About Charles Bukowski
notes by scribblerbean
life in the margins, caffeinated.
A Topsy Turvy World
Disorder shall prevail thanks to Sister Entropy
Wuji Seshat
Selected Poems
She's in Prison
Poetry by Leanne Rebecca Ortbals
Offtheravenstongue's Blog
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Read A Little Poetry
Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life? ― Mary Oliver
Awake & Asleep
Letters from Edinburgh to Manila, and Back
Never Quite Broken
What you did not build up, you cannot tear down.
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My daughter Melanie at the cemetery at her grandfather’s funeral.
Mark: I hadn’t seen your comment on this post when I looked at it the first time; now, of course, I understand something of its significance. My condolences on your family’s loss–and a sad reminder that not everyone is able to share in the bounty of Thanksgiving. My thoughts are with you and yours.
Thank you, Susan.
I have to admit that while this was not at all a staged photo, she is not looking at her grandfather’s grave. After the ceremony she walked around the cemetery looking at other veterans’ graves and reading their tombstones.
It struck me as a beautiful moment, and I like the way the light plays in the picture.