Stand on the Rock
Boy stands easily on the smooth flat rock
Pond shines around like his first set of teeth
and the mountains of sky
and the razors of conifers surround
Sunbeams press his skin and drown
the phantoms of a sleepless night in winter
For a moment he thinks, I am whole
He looks from a thin rutted trail looping their campfire
to the girl. He smiles for the thin black glass
she holds she cradles in slender fingers
She snaps the shutter flies across the light
He shifts his stance, I am your baby you married me
Come step over the moss in fumbling hands
and faces rounder smoother wetter
pressing sunbeams from the corners
Now the plastic rectangle pressed in plastic
strangles memories of him and her
And half the photos discarded
and half and half again the scenery
then hands and feet
at the hands of unknown strangers
Boy opens again the large slick binder
A long time ago and far away
she holds the camera
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