He sits in his favorite soft chair,

With my mother sitting on his left knee,

And my uncle Joe on the the other.

They sit in the comfortable afternoon light,

With warm sunlight reflecting off of his golden wedding ring.

Shiny and bright, it stands as a golden remembrance

Of his gone yet not forgotten bride.

Their faces smiling slightly at the camera,

Their true feelings hiding behind their faces,

Slip through the cracks.

Despair.