In this photo you smile, your eyes
wander west where the sun catches
tenements and a river tease. There’s
a hint of heat in the way flags hang
as limp as promises. Out of focus
doors are neither open nor closed.
I drove that day, for the first time,
after you unravelled into
a thousand unresolved revolts
during our journey to Sauble Beach.
It was nothing, just a gesture
of faith in the afterlife of events.
The camera wanders the fields
and footsteps between then
and now, you perched on a rock
almost falling into the Grand River,
you holding our daughter,
you finishing a 10K run, exhausted,
you in Egypt, in front of the Sphinx,
you sitting across from me,
breakfast served, not an event
on the line between the maiden
and the matron unrecorded.