I found an old photograph in a steamer trunk
that I bought in Brooklyn in 2007;
all it said was "Mildred and I in Heaven..."
And in it, was an olive man
standing behind a tawny woman,
she seeming to win the duel.
the sky is a fool to ignore
both looking opposite directions,
without a sense of flowing affection.
Their background world seemed one
of fated convenience, hence the bracelet
on his hand, not hers, cuffed to no favorite.
Punctured by a past,
I wonder how long they lasted;
if their grandchildren ever found happiness.
Shiny shoes, the colors obscured
in the technology of black and white,
but the doldrums of their faces bright.
I framed them for walls
and all to see
who come see me.
A story slices differently each day,
as I greet them with my own survey,
another life in other photographs.