November 11th by Turner Beshears

On November 11th, 2000,

a newlywed couple is photographed

at the altar.

The woman is young,

with deep auburn hair,

and a contagious smile

that gleams with her pearls.

Her smile stretches from

cheek to rosy cheek,

and you can feel the

warmth of her happiness.

Her husband towers over her

with love.

His smile is tobacco stained

but honest,

and he isn’t directing his

heartfelt smile at the camera,

but down at her.

One can feel their love

through the photo.

The photo isn’t on the wall

of the first house they bought

together,

or on a dresser

they share,

in their master bedroom,

but its soaring through the air

18 years later,

in an engraved silver frame,

launched by the woman

with now faded auburn hair.

The frame and imprisoned photo

are stopped by

what once was

the couples living room wall,

and the glass confining

the morning of that one

November 11th

shatters,

much like the heart of

the now aged woman,

at the thought of her

deteriorated marriage.