Her Hair Is in Happy Disarray

Her hair is in happy disarray,
as are her teeth, which she gladly bares
for the camera to show that precious gap
whose softness she must often touch,
marveling at the newness of a painless loss.
The towel round her shoulders is a cape
whose roughness I can feel,
protecting shivering limbs
that scorn protection in the sun.

Is this a photograph or memory?
Something reaching from the frame
provokes my heart to joy.

October 14 2009