Photographic Memory

On a humid night
the moon steaming in the sky
we sat around the cottage firepit
my daughter squealing
as marshmallows got sooty and sticky
on the wooden skewer
an instrumental song played
on my portable speakers
at war with cranky crickets
while my father tried to
take pictures of my mother
with the moon in the background
cursing his phone
because it couldn’t get
both her and the moon
in clear focus
Papa, the camera can’t handle

that much beauty in one shot
he turned around
looked at me and beamed