Ekphrastic

Photo of Two Nonagenarians in the Park

My two uncles met in the shady park,

one from Dad’s side, one from Mom’s.

Both had white hair, receding-hair lines

silver glasses, paper-thin skin,

and crescent-moon smiles.

One sat with his hands resting on his cane,

the other stood with hands in pockets.

One has since passed on to meet his brother,

my dad. I think of all their past years

and the five nieces they had in common.

And I wish we would have known them better.