I’ve been looking at images of times gone by

Of our family standing in the sun with arms

Draped over each other’s shoulders.

My hand unseen touching the small of your back

Your hand holding Max’s leash.

And he just a smudge of black

In the photo

I close my eyes and hear your laughter.

And see you spin around and

Max tugging you in the direction of a squirrel.

Perhaps one day the boys will be looking at this image.

And remember the feel of my arms around their shoulders.

And their mother’s soft touch as she dressed them.

For this photograph.