The camera shifted,
so everyone moved to the left.
"C'mon, Uncle Joe" I said,
"get in closer."
I smelled sandalwood
and then the wind picked up,
stirring up a haze around us.
"Wait a minute, folks" I told everyone.
A baby started crying.
There was a marching band
somewhere down the street.
I put my right hand on
Jennie's shoulder.
She didn't shrug it off.
And the wind died down.
"Don't look directly at the camera"
I entreated everyone.
"Look slightly to the left."
"We should have hired
a professional photographer"
said Grandma Rose.
But I had forgiven her
for this, and for many other things,
a long time ago.
The wind picked up again
and just before it started to
rain
the chartered bus arrived.
Family members scattered
down the steps
like so many slinkies --
but I took the picture anyways.
Then got on the bus to face
egg salad and Jennie sitting
next to a stranger named Mike.
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