The Snapshot

There we four sit, quick perched as sparrows on a wire,
no rheumy eyes, no trembling hands, no wheezing cough,
warm as lovers, snug in the moment’s cloak,
the present like this and the future
a long way off.

It’s the Holidays, cake, candles, hot punch drinks,
parties, dances, evenings around the fire,
the family all at home, guests, girls for the boys,
the snow outside smoothed by a fuzzy moon,
inside warm with desire.

A tree in the corner winked its colored lights,
we sang and mixed the steaming drinks with a laugh,
no misery of sickness and age dared enter the house,
my brother and I with our girls sat on the couch
for this photograph.