Antessa and I

It's a poem about a photograph.

Inspired by a photograph

Antessa and I were standing near the rock.

We were posing for the photographer.

Beautiful flowers embellished the gardens around us.

She turned her back to the rock,

I put my left hand around her waist,

And I gently pulled her to my side.

Crabgrass covered the spot where our feet were.

 

The Assembly Hall was visible in the backdrop.

Scores of people were walking about on the premises.

I pressed my posterior against the rock.

I crossed my legs and turned my head sideways

As if I were taking a candid photograph.

She was looking straight at the sister in front of her.

 

It was the first time we were taking a picture together.

We were anticipating the best possible outcome.

The heat of July was almost unbearable.

Her outer garment was shaking in the stiff breeze.

There was an attractive motif on her scarf.

And she was wearing a fashionable handbag.

 

The photo shoot lasted for a few moments.

And we certainly treasured every second of it.

Lunchtime was up, and we had to go inside.

I courteously escorted her to a seat in the auditorium.

We sat quietly and listened to the prelude.

And we waited for the afternoon session to begin.

Author's Note

This is an old piece. Enjoy the reading.