The Final Frame

The final frame
Is still too far to see

The projector clicks; the wall turns summer
Your yellow dress blows through the gate
I step too close and lose the picture
You laugh and pull me back in place
The sound is gone from all these little films
But I remember what you said
You wouldn't let me waste the whole day
Trying to get the light just right

The final frame, your hand in mine
No perfect pose, no borrowed lines
Let the years leave what they came to claim
Let love be what remains in the final frame

A birthday cake, the numbers leaning
My shoulder blocks you half the time
Then there's the year we both look older
You reach to straighten out my tie
I don't recall who held the camera
Or what we ate or where we went
But in the corner of each frame
Your hand comes reaching out for mine

The final frame, your hand in mine
No perfect pose, no borrowed lines
Let the years leave what they came to claim
Let love be what remains in the final frame

The projector hums; I switch it off
There's someone here the films can't hold
You reach to tuck my collar straight
I'm still the one you chose
Don't let me spend the afternoon
Practicing how to let you go

The final frame can wait awhile
You're here beside me; your hand is mine
There's still an afternoon we get to claim
Let's live before we reach the final frame

The final frame
Your hand in mine