His Last Photo

Author’s note: My sweet Courtney and his longtime girlfriend visited in my dreams the other night. How I miss them.

in the nineties, I never took photos for reasons

that must have seemed good enough then but

now

when I wake in the morning

shocked to see you again

if only in a dream

.

young and laughing, your soulmate

at your side,

the two of you playing tag around

the tree that grows in the front

window

(a tree that still survives

after all the years

of hacking it back

so it won’t grow through the ceiling)

.

to see you now is to wish

i had a photo of your youth

so others could see the spark

of green spirit

mere words cannot

convey

To see you again

young and in love

the two of you

two green ribbons braided together

.

But there is beauty in that final photo too

on that last day

knowing it was the end

creaky with arthritis

you washed your face

and climbed into the window to

bask in the sun

one last time

tho i thought you’d lost the strength to climb

alone into the window weeks before

.

on that last day

with fierce determination

you climbed on scuttling claw and

gripping beak

before i saw the effort it cost you

before i had a chance to lift you up

.

i can do this

let me do this

.

one last climb

one last bath of sunlight on welcoming feathers

the last dream before

I descend

to sleep against your heart

and then fly away

to soar with her again

Notes

This story was simultaneously published to Medium, but you can enjoy it here without the paywall.

You can read more about my senior peach-fronted conures here: