Hug and Kiss
There’s no reason we can’t have nice things.
The camera was forgotten when Dad got a promotion that moved the family to Omaha. Could be it got dropped, or replaced with a newer model. Perhaps the son took it with to Vietnam, and neither returned. Things get broken, taken from us, no matter the care we take.
The puppy, one of six in his litter, got the name Roller from how he’d tumble while chasing s ball. He looks so big in Lilly’s embrace, but he was only eight days to her three years, his eyes not open to the world yet, still only imagining the source of a kiss. They learned quickly to love and care.
The little girl in this picture is 73 now, awaiting a coming great-grandchild’s fingers around hers, the large eyes, bigger smile. Time doesn’t ask if we’re ready for change. The puppy died when she was 13, and she cried uncontrollably when she came home from school to the unexpected news.
We just can’t have them forever.
2 thoughts on "Hug and Kiss"
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Time doesn’t ask . . . sums up your poem so well.
Thanks!