And for the briefest moment,
I saw her again,
Smiling from the dock
At our cottage in Michigan.
Head tilted just a slight.
Her tresses folding and flowing
Over her shoulders, down her back,
Reaching for the current’s rowing.
And like a vintage photo –
The colours fade to white and black.
A haze washes the image away.
She’s gone. And I can’t get her back.