Open Wounds

a sort of contrapuntal poem

The difficult truth is

		telling someone you love
		that there are only so many years
		left to capture still-life images
		of the people we used to be,

I’m still learning who I am
		
                  studying each picture:
                  me clinging to grandpa’s shoulders,
                  you gripping Paw Paw’s fingers,
                  wonder…