Your Photo

You are frozen in a frame above the mantle.
Your face thin, I notice now; but though it seems
not for the first time.

There are things I want to ask you; when I'm alone
I do. You haven't answered me yet-
this is the first promise you've broken.

It's been too many years for me to keep talking
to ink behind glass.
This photographic love must end.

My sweet memory. I should forget.