In Retrospect Poem by Melissa Goodman

He stacked them up like books, or lined them up
On the shelf, title facing out, stiff, straight
The memories he created, though late
Were for her to have; the lens in close-up
Captured days gone and the ones remaining
So she might have a place to put her tears
And he would have some peace upon his ring,
But nothing makes up for disappeared years.
The investment fades like a summer tan
Real time allows no space for severed love
And empty hours invite strength overran-
His bloodied hands-she could not feel above
Her swollen cheeks-the soldier, no free man,
And their love swept by war, a fallen dove