I Saw You the Other Day









I saw you the other day


    Everyone Lined up for a group photo. It must’ve been like 50 of us. To get that many people to focus for just one second, it seemed impossible. The shutter snapped, and the sky filled with laughter, everything was bright. Somehow we got the picture and everyone began to move, and for just a brief moment, I saw you. You were laughing and smiling, you turned back, wearing that slick fedora you always wore, with the camera you left for me in hand. I saw you, in all of your health and light.

    Like a glimmer you vanished, and I knew it then, this was only a dream. I woke up shortly after, but both the real and dream me felt the gravity of the moment. It was the first time I seen you in such clarity for 7 years. Even as your appearance had begun to fade from my memory, and all the photos I see you in don’t quite picture you the way I remembered. I could see you, clear as day. I really hope you can see me now, see all that I’ve been doing. Maybe this was your visit, and for that.

I am grateful.


    I remember that now. You used to call me that a lot, slick, especially when I would steal the fedora off of your head. Thank you for bringing this back to me, I say I won’t forget again, but I will. Memories are fragile and they fade. I hope that you’ll return to me once more. Until then, see ya slick.   











Baltimore, MD
Maryland Institute College of Art