Picture Framed (thoughts on a photo found)

He and I are one, the one soul, one face

but he will remain forever just the same

as I grow old on nature's whim and grace

he’s protected by glass and wooden frame

while I walk frail, prey for the bandit time.

He looks up with the arrogance of youth,

the assured poise of a man still in his prime

never to know life's plain simple truth

that you can not cheat it's absolute decree.

As my gaze comes to rest upon his form

past and present merge as with his eyes I see

a boy showering under a summer storm.