Polaroid Reckoning
A flat tire
a broken-down sink
crashing glass
screaming sirens
racing flames
frame trailing
frame
of heat and dark colors
of what
could
have been.
Blowing smudges tinged in promise,
pomp and circumstance long gone.
A blink, an eye, filled with mere seconds
that blend.
Yet, the snap of the wrist
delivers darkness again.
Still,
she walks in patience
along the wilted washed out brush
where an image blurred in ember
will soon tease a rosy flush.
And when the pigment rises,
her children’s laughter, sticky sets.
She’ll know it has everything to do with her
and not a thing to do
with him.