The last Photograph

~~it was the Sunday
before you left me.
I remember our breakfast
then the walk we took.
The floral gardens are so lovely
At this time of year.

I took your picture.
Focused perfectly
you framed in roses
within the arch
of the climbing rose arbor.

My camera clicked once.
 I remember somewhere
a church bell was ringing.
Looking now at what was
the last photograph
I would ever take of you.

Your ashen loveless face
Was saying the goodbye
I heard this morning.
And the camera never lies.