Seen With Sadness

take a long look at Winnie
commissioned in serious sepia
here she sits before a camera lens
focused to capture pale features

her long dark ringlets cascade
in a wild mane over her shoulders
her sad expression as though
she knows her days are numbered

encumbered with a disease
which stole her breathing
sent her on a journey of no return
robbing her four brothers of a sister

the child is sixteen has barely lived
a portrait at the behest of parents
ensures she is dressed in her best
buttoned and covered to the throat

i hold her in warm hands
over a century since her demise
her eyes colder with the years
gathering the dust of bygone tears

Reviews

[Perdition]

Without the photograph, your words describe this fate and make the heart fall. There is nothing worse or nothing more glorious than the courage of a fated soul pressing on and on. Words to live and words to fight with as the inevitable walks toward peace, for '"Death be not Proud" a Donne stab at death's power in the end...the "slave to kings who creates the wars" (paraphrasing)~ Wonderful write Chris~

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts. Pleased you enjoyed the read. All the best.
read moreThank you so much for sharing your thoughts. Pleased you enjoyed the read. All the best.

Chris

[Perdition]

Nope, lol. In the photos lie the wolves that are waiting for me...Foxes actually but when I return after I leave tonight or tomorrow I most certainly will try to both write more and read as well. Honesty, ya gotta hate it..lol..smiles Chris, and thanks for your reviews and kind responses!!

[Chris Shaw]

Oh no, not that dreaded read more that pops up unwanted. Why does it do that? So rude don’tcha think:))

[Perdition]

Perhaps, maybe in such light? Just know that I want to shut off the screens when I'm with pops and with the wolves and the mountain ..then I come back refreshed. But also must make time for writing and much more other things as such, though I understand, I also must gauge time for many other arts as well...we all do really. It's a wonder we sleep at all as I know I average an hour or so a day. Namaste Chris and will read or try. Smiles!

[Perdition]

Ah!...just now understood those annoying ads are what you meant..lol. Oops. Yep! They are annoying as...!

[AYVID N]

When we look back at the portraits of those times, they feel so ethereal and beautiful to behold, in their serious sepia, those subdued tints and tones. I often think they were uncomplicated and simpler times but your words speak such volumes about the darkness of those tragic times. When the lives of children were so dispensable, when children were treated like adults in their tasks and responsibilities, life was harsh in its conditions and consumption ate away so many millions of innocents. Thankfully, we have come a long way from those times, at least in the developed world.

Young Winnie is immortalized as much by your words as by that old camera lens from eons ago. This is a poem to read over and over again and revisit the past with such fascination and interest. Wonderfully penned, dear Chris!

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you for your welcome and thoughtful review divya. Vaccinations and the advance in medicine have made such a difference. Winnie if born today would have ended with a different story. However not so in the undeveloped world where this disease still kills. Virtually eradicate one disease, along comes another to replace it. Cancer is the big killer now in the west. Pleased you enjoyed my share of my great aunt’s story. I too am pleased I have poemed her.

Chris

[AYVID N]

Indeed, dear Chris, every Era will come with its own scourge. Would you believe it, polio is still around?

I enjoyed and appreciated this poem so much. You're most welcome, dear Chris
⚘🙋‍♀️❤

[FGFRANKLIN]

Those old photos of long lost relatives always enchant me. I've one of my grandmother in those sepia tones standing beside her tricycle. The thing has no peddles so I guess you just scooted along with your feet on the ground. At least we have photos or daguerreotypes or something to remind us of family lost to history. This was a poignant read.

[Chris Shaw]

Thanks Fabian. Those photos in sepia are a source of fascination. A connection to a time we didn’t know. I be appreciate your thoughts. All the best.

Chris

[Sami Khalil]

I was imagining the fragility of her sad story, its short ending from your perfect, descriptive words as a reflection of life in general and all of us in particular. You have a great empathetic heart which shows.
We truly feel that our safety, longevity are taken when we witness or see photos of relatives gone before or after our eyes.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Sami your thoughtful review. When I think of her, it is with a sadness that says, if you had been born later, you may have lived longer. Sad times then for families. So many died young.

Chris

[Sami Khalil]

Wow! So true and well said. You are welcome Chris

[Lorry]

I was thinking the caff was on the blink again there, but (I am presuming, which the saying goes only makes a pres out of you and me, or something like that) perchance you are describing the picture for us, which is very kind of you indeed.
Sepia is beautiful but does suggest sombreness, no matter what the subject and a disease that steals your breath is as sombre as it can come.
When we talk about the good old days, we usually see it through rose tinted specs, but maybe we should have a pair of sepia ones too, as life was indeed tougher back in the day, where illness seemed way more common and rarely left a family untouched.
My wee mammy spent her 21st birthday in hospital in England, far away from her family, never knowing if she'd see them again, with TB and I remember the first time I saw the scars on her back I had nightmares for months, thinking Jack the ripper must have made a comeback, or a combine harvester had got hold of her.
The strangest thing was she said it was such a happy time, where all the other girls and staff were so lovely to her because she was far from home and I used to have pictures of them all in party hats, with cake and smiles, which you don't instantly think of when you hear TB hospital. The great fire of '17 took a lot of memories from me, but I still think of how I used to stare at them all smiling and grew up wondering if TB hospital was just code for doolally, much the same as people used to mouth the words "big C" silently, leaving me growing up wondering why so many people were drowning!
I like the way you named the person in the painting, which makes it more real, despite never knowing her, as well as the phrase "the dust of bygone tears" It suggests that these people are forgotten now, which Winnie is not, thanks to your touching words you have painted in our minds.

[Chris Shaw]

Thanks Lorry for sharing your mammy. Strange she should have happy memories of that time when she was ill. Winnie was my Grandad’s sister and he spoke of her with a hushed voice. I have the photographs and her memory is held dear.

Chris

[Red Brick Keshner]

I have relatives that I have never met but see only through 'artifacts' of long ago and it still get touched and moved as if I'd spent actual real time with them. This poem exemplifies that we hold them with warmth still!

[Chris Shaw]

We do hold them with warmth. Her brother was my Grandad and he often spoke about her in a hushed voice. She was like a little sparrow. Thank you Freds for stopping by. Have a good day.

Chris

[John the Baptist]

I had an aunt that died of TB in the 1930's. It's hard for us now to realize what a scourge that disease was before modern medicine conquered it. There were sanitariums for those who had "consumption," but there was little else that could be done for them. This poem captures well the sadness of those who were afflicted, and of those who loved them.

[Chris Shaw]

So common back in the day. With vaccinations it was virtually eliminated in the UK. Still around now though. So many like Winnie who would have survived if they had been burn later. Thank you John.

Chris

[W. Barrett Munn]

A lovely homage to a sad end,

Winston

[Chris Shaw]

Many thanks Winston for your visit. Much appreciated.

Chris

[willweb]

Such a sad piece of writing, this one causes my heart to ache and feel a bit empty. I do not know who this is about but it hurts to read. Wonderfully written though, which is the norm for you my friend.

[Chris Shaw]

Many thanks will. This is my great aunt Winnie who died from TB at 17. I have some very old photographs of her and also a bundle of letters she wrote to a Baptist Minister who visited her in her final months. Did he offer her comfort? Like hell he did. All fire and brimstone. Upsetting to think she had that to contend with.

Chris

[willweb]

Wow, that is crazy. It sure was different time back then.