"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.