Snapshots

Damper than morn' dew, you'd rise like alarms, with whimpered cries, too early for Mother. Picturesque you'd sleep nestled in her arms, unconsolable by any another. At shutter speed, you'd leap from Mama's lap, leaving the comfort of security's squeeze, trotting faster than a pat-a-cake clap to challenge cupboard climbs as jungle trees. Camera rolls could fill many backpacks with adventures and years of school learning. Flashes of friends, family, and knick nacks would shade in pixels without returning. Daddy's dark hair, as seen in photographs, would fade at the rate of his fickle health. Friends would move away, along with their laughs, but captured moments brought unrivaled wealth. Now Father's bold resemblance reconates beyond the scrapbooked glossy three by fives. Your handsome husband strangely emulates his laughter and a keen likeness revives. Picture perfection hung upon the halls zooms in on your children, seven and four. As you scrub away scribbles from those walls, you capture emotions film couldn't store. Snapshots continue to develop smiles and little features as small as yours were. Your mother is as present as laundry piles and double exposures often occur. 5-24-2020