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Robert Nordstrom

I love those old black & white saw-toothed Kodak moments:
the confusing scowl in a sea of smiles,
the mysterious sidelong glance
that didn’t make the photo album cut,
the ones mothers frowned at while shuffling
through the stack a couple of weeks after the family picnic
then dropped into the unmarked grave
of a cardboard box,
but kept, like chipped china,
their Instamatic truth safe
from Photoshop crop, or worse,
the digital click into oblivion.
This poem first appeared in Echoes.
Used here with the author’s permission.


Robert Nordstrom is a poet, freelance writer and school bus driver living in Mukwonago, Wisconsin. A retired editor of several scholarly and trade magazines, he has published fiction and poetry in various literary publications. As a school bus driver, his goals for the school year are modest, though a bit subversive: to teach a second grader it’s probably best she not lick the seat in front of her, and to teach high schoolers how to respond when an adult says good morning. Thus far, limited success.


Post New Comment:
I can so remember all those "saw-toothed Kodak moments!" Like chipped china...oh what can't be thrown away. Thankfully! Thanks for your spare writing style and evoking strong memories.
Posted 04/25/2012 01:07 PM
"the unmarked grave/ of a cardboard box"... who among us can relate to that? Love this one.
Posted 04/24/2012 11:47 AM
Tyler Gabrysh:
Vivid imagery and terrific execution of an ending!
Posted 04/24/2012 11:30 AM
Wonderful details! And I love your goals. Phyllis
Posted 04/24/2012 09:53 AM
Glen Sorestad:
Yes, Robert, you've got it just right! I love the last three lines.
Posted 04/24/2012 09:44 AM
Gary Busha:
A good slice of life from the past. I'm happy to see Bob's work here.
Posted 04/24/2012 09:04 AM
I love it. Make me wonder where all my digital photos go--for that matter, where my old Brownie camera went. Great poem!
Posted 04/24/2012 08:58 AM

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