This Good Again
By Ethan Joella
No, I’m not one for pictures or dwelling or
dwelling over pictures
but I saw you in that one,
so random, like a stroke or snow squall,
And I fell to bones.
In the photograph, they were about to load
your old living room chair onto a truck,
so you sat in it one last time, let it recline.
The rubber soles of your slippers were
launched in front of you like you were going
no where. You were giggling.
It was a moment, like flying or childbirth,
where it can never get this way, this good again.
That picture, that dwelling, wretched masterpiece
Tells me you really were there,
jammed in time as if you had never known
they would take the chair away.