Photograph

He wears a ragged hounds tooth hat; He hasn’t seen a blade in years. A worn and tattered photograph Records her on that fateful day. They took it at the five and dime, Then shared some rhubarb a la mode. The metal seal would not break loose; The bottle held between his legs, He fumbled, grabbed it with both hands; He lost control and hopped the curb, drove through the glass and never slowed. And so he keeps the photograph The papers ran the day they died. Her image haunts his dreams at night; He cannot keep her screams at bay. Some fifteen years behind steel bars, Another ten beneath the bridge, He knows he can't go on this way. Resolved, his mind and eyes are clear; He’s entering rehab today. ————— for the Pastel Poetry Contest sponsored by Craig Cornish written on 06/04/2022