Some photographs are more than paper.
They become time capsules, quietly holding versions of ourselves that no longer exist. A single smile, a familiar face, or the way the light fell across a moment can transport us back in an instant.
The Smile came from wondering what would happen if a photograph could give something back.
Not words.
Not answers.
Just a feeling.
The poem imagines touching an old photograph and having the smile within it echo back through the paper. It isn’t magic in the usual sense. It’s the kind of magic memory creates. That sudden rush when, for a brief moment, the years disappear and you’re standing beside the person you used to be.
As we grow older, life changes us.
Heartbreak, grief, illness, responsibility and time all leave their marks. We don’t always notice how much we’ve changed until we catch sight of an old photograph and realise the person smiling back seems almost like a stranger.
But perhaps they aren’t.
Perhaps that younger version of ourselves is still there, quietly waiting beneath everything life has layered upon us.
This poem touches somewhere deep inside me. Whenever I read it, I’m struck by a quiet sense of wonder and a deep understanding of the innocence we once carried so effortlessly.
There is something profoundly moving about looking back at a single moment in time and recognising the person you were before life left its fingerprints on your heart. Before disappointment, grief, responsibility, and experience quietly reshaped you.
I don’t believe we should be afraid of looking back. It’s okay to remember the innocence we once held. It wasn’t weakness—it was a blessing. Experience changes us, but it is also part of the journey of life. We lose certain things along the way, yet we gain wisdom, resilience, compassion, and a deeper understanding of ourselves.
One of my favourite lines in the poem is:
“For just a moment, time forgot itself.”
That moment sits at the heart of the poem. It’s the instant when the past and present briefly meet, allowing the adult to borrow something from the child they once were.
Hope.
Wonder.
An uncomplicated smile.
The ending isn’t about sadness. It’s about recognition.
Sometimes we spend so long searching for happiness in the future that we forget a part of it still exists inside us, waiting to be remembered.
Perhaps that is what The Smile is really about.
Not wishing we could go back…
But recognising that the child smiling from the photograph still lives somewhere within us, reminding us that although life changes who we become, it never completely erases who we once were.
I hope The Smile encourages readers to pull out an old photograph, pause for a moment, and remember the person they used to be—not with regret, but with kindness.
Because sometimes all it takes is one smile…
…to remind us that we once knew how to smile like that too.
Thank you for reading
Your DislexicPoet 🖤