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.