Ellen's Cupcake

My thoughts edge out at a slowing pace From memory to memory with rusted grace There’s a picture standing beside my chair It strains my thought and harbors my stare The photo itself, a grayed black and white It’s perfectly framed in the autumn light There we are on a bench on a pier I remember neither from yesteryear There in my palm is a warm cupcake An offering to her, its hers to take Her smile and eyes suggest warmth too Once more I wonder if she knew