Peacocks (Poetry)

We three spent all that hazy afternoon
around the lake — towards the end of June —
with cameras taking pictures of such things
as drew attention — fluttered new-found wings.

Insects — pairs of neon damsel flies
hovered and patrolled near-windless skies
and peacocks lazy in their aimless flight
lured you off and almost out of sight.

One image lasted — sharper than the rest —
a memory of you in that blue dress
chasing peacocks half a field away —
I found one of your photographs today...