Fallen Faces

There's a picture of you and me and one other, and the implication of another from some time when birds nested. But it's winter there and all color is ignored. It is difficult to say if the eggs of the nest were from robins without a blue. It is difficult to say if there ever were any nested eggs, since it is empty.

The wind blew this picture from its point of leaning on my ledge, which is not quite large enough for comfortable sitting. The wind blew the cardboard backing and our faces fell forward because this picture, this matting, is not in its frame. Because the frame and its glass were not securely protected on its overseas flight. Nor were they secure from Chicago to Cleveland. And the glass crumbled. There are probably still shards in my luggage. Because unpacking seemed more important than forgetting the presence of glass. And then I never reframed the piece. So it leans lightly and is moved by slight wind.