"The grin of a twenty-year-old..."

The grin of a twenty-year-old at thirty-

two somehow still matches.

Six-foot-four. Legs – long and sturdy.

Head covered in silver patches.

Strands of hair in fantastic disorder,

in the place of each eye - a gem.

I know, time is fleeting. Photo,

preserve all of me as I am.

Sasha beside me. Her eyes, evading

the camera’s tight-squeezing aperture,

appear even more captivating, -

blurry, in the hands of an amateur.

Hair, out from her hat, - feathery.

The smile on her lips – sublime.

I’m afraid that I’ll lose her. Memory,

stand firm in the face of time.