The picture of the two of us,
pulled from my suit-coat pocket,
leans on my dresser.
Square with rounded corners,
faded blue ink–
Kodak May 1980–
printed on the back.
I scanned it for my lock screen, too,
so I can see myself
leaning up against her in the slanted spring light.
The first few days after
Mom taught me how to die
were simpler–
but when I walk outside,
leaves are turning,
afternoons are darker now.
bussokuseki 
I’m with Chris, above. And this brings to mind a time when I was there at the end, on a summer day, and then found fall so difficult to accept. The changing of the seasons echoed the loss too closely.
Thank you, my friend, I’m touched by your response. I’ve missed our exchanges in this last year.
Almost a year between this post and your return today. The sincere simplicity of it rings like a bell across the days. It is very good to read your writing again.
A beautiful, spare poem, so very evocative. Thank you for sharing your experience in this loving manner. Warm Wishes, Tash
Thank you, Tasha, for receiving it… Be well~
your writing…sharing brings to mind the scent and feel of the “square with rounded corners” photographs which nonverbally story treasured memories of emotional connections…thank you for sharing your words and for the profound gift within.
Thank you, brenda, for the visit and taking the time to share your thoughts. I’m glad you found some resonance there … Be well~
Sigh… What a wistful, spare and lovely poem. And I found myself wondering if we would hear from you soon. And here you are. Thank you.
Sigh, indeed, Charlotte. I hope you are well~
This says so much with these spare words, this sparse description. This is October for me as well.
Good to see your words my friend.
I should have quite a bit to say but I find that if they aren’t just right, the words themselves violate the feeling… Thanks so much for reading and saying hello, Johnny, always good to connect.