the picture that loaded three times, hours later

and in case I don't remember
the picture is there in a trio of memories,
to recall the road that ended in a dirt pathway,
the one that called on skills I didn't have
but had to summon from somewhere,
like parenthood
when you bring home this tiny baby
and you're not sure he will make it through the
night and so you watch and listen all night
and somehow he survived to age 30,
and I made it up that gravel path
gunning the electric bike and urging myself
on through my fears
until I was at the top and the dirt
had turned to cement
and I knew that even if I didn't have a trio of
pictures, I would never forget that moment.