The Picture

There are pictures on the piano,

Pictures of the family,

Mostly my kids but there's an old

Picture of you and me.

You were five and I was six

In 1952;

That was forty years ago-

How could it be true?

We were sitting outside drawing

At a table meant for cards,

And it must have been in autumn,

Falling leaves in the front yard,

With a shoebox full of crayons,

Full of colors oh so bright,

In a picture in a plastic frame,

A snapshot black and white.

You were looking at my paper,

Watching what I drew;

It was natural: I was older,

Thirteen months more than you.

A brother and a sister,

A little boy and girl,

And whoever took that picture

Captured our own world.

A brother needs a sister

To watch what he can do,

To protect and to torture,

To boss around-it's true;

But a brother will defend her

For a sister's love is pure,

Because she thinks he's wonderful

When he is not so sure.

In the picture there's a fender

Of our old Chevrolet

Or Pontiac-our dad would know,

Surely he could say;

But dad is dead and we grow old;

It's true that time flies by;

And in forty years the world has changed

As well as you and I.