In vivid recall – ‘gainst the many years –
That image captured by my eyes and stored
Upon that first and stunning view: your face.
Now deep inside my neural memory chest,
For me to glance a smile when time is tight,
Or study wildly – still in disbelief –
When life has paused and turmoil takes a break.
Who needs a photograph when I can blink?
And there you are: that blonde of twenty years –
Standing; smiling… at me, of all menfolk.
Copyright © Mark R slaughter 2009
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