-Lovely-

When the time comes

To move to another place

Nearly as good as the old one,

Or when the time comes

To clean the old place up,

Get rid of all that stuff, or

When curiosity peaks

As to what’s in the water-

Stained corrugated box in the basement

Behind the dank, foul-smelling chaise lounge

Which use to be a pleasure to sway upon
On clear, cool mid-autumn evenings,

Someone may come to ask:

––"Do you know where

 That photograph of Mom is?

 The one taken before she was married to Dad?

 You know, the one from Loring Studio"?––

Of course.

The one from Loring Studio.
So you commit to the search

Because you remember it,

Remember seeing it someplace

And you don’t know

Where to start looking —

Which room, drawer,

Area of darkness,
Which deep, forgotten corner
Of stacked recollections

And you wonder why

A photograph such as that,

The graceful young woman

At the burgeoning of her life

Wasn't cleaned, framed and displayed

In a hallway with others of its kind,
Anyone's hallway, mantelpiece or end-table

And you agonize over finding it

Not because somebody

Asked of its whereabouts

But because finding it

Becomes an expedition to another

Piece of the puzzle, this singular photograph
Dedicated to someone unknown,
Penned in a delicate hand: "Always, Anne"—
An image of the lovely young woman

Who would one day come to say:

"Billy! Put those things in the hamper!

 Then go get your father some Luckies"!

 Quequechan