Forty Years On


The photo on the bridge
was his favorite.
The one they asked a stranger to take.
The sun was shy that day,
so was she.

Feeding bits of bread to gulls,
asking questions that drew them closer,
he recalls the meal they shared on the pier.

Her charcoal hair was now diamond
but the emerald of her eyes
had never changed.
He had forgotten that her hosiery was cream colored
until just this moment.

Is it time that blurred these two?
Or tears?

Her eyes were wide under the clouds,
now faded in the print he held
before placing it next to her head
on the satin pillow
that would hold her
for eternity.

Popular Posts