Poem: A Photo in a Frame

A Photo in a Frame

 

After a weekend away,

I reenter my bare room,

return to a cold moment

that’s been completely still since

our last talk together; when

her little voice said Goodbye

 

I find our old picture, framed—

such a lovely photograph

inside bold and bright red wood.

I turn it over, face down

because all those memories

still hurt, still burn, still sting me

 

Quickly, I put together—

inside an ugly black frame—

a small sheet of red cardstock

on which I made a short note;

with a simple black sharpie

I wrote, I will be okay.

 

I put away our photo

in a small red paper bag

inside my little closet—

I

can’t

bear

to

hold

the

thought

of

throwing

it

all

away.