One faded old picture
There in the dark frame,
One faded old picture
There in the freezing rain,
It might be a blanket of blue
On the child who just turned two,
It might be a head full of bouncy curls
Or a day shopping out with the girls,
It might be a purple kite
That you put together with all your might,
It might be the veil of a bride
Or the sun setting over the evening tide,
It might be the last tuff of hair on poppa’s head
Or little Ana’s first big girl bed,
It might be a shadowy trace
Of a tear that runs down an angel’s face,
Nothing has more possibilities,
Then one old faded picture, lying in the rain.