My first memory of you
Isn’t even a memory now
But a photograph of a memory
Rubbing his hand over scrubby red beard
Not like the others in dress or manner
A planet not his own, a time beyond his understanding
There is a brick in Harvard Yard
Put there by a man
Forever unknown
Inside, away from you
And the wetness
You bring
Image floating from mind to canvas
Wet seeking a dry place to speak
And now, staring back