Two Pictures

His chin just clears
the edge of the stone birdbath.
Pudgy hands grip the edge,
balancing him as he peers
into the water and at
the two stone birds permanently frozen there.
His mouth opens slightly in awe
and his hair fringes his soft eyebrows.

Frozen in time at age three (and-a-half)
in a picture given to Granmummy
and now on Mummy’s shelf above
the little drawers, the bureau, the floor.

He stands slightly in front
of his Graduation Photo where
at age eighteen, he probably
would not remember the scene
were it not frozen in time and
now in loose rhyme.

The young man smiles assuredly,
chin now darkened slightly
by the shadow of a beard.
His jacket, tie, and shirt in perfect order,
his hair now neatly trimmed,
unfringed.

No longer does he have a favorite tee shirt,
worn nearly every day.
His chin would be well above the edge of the birdbath rim.
The curiosity remains, however,
and the sunshine of that earlier day
will forever follow him.