We posed for a family portrait
When you were nine
It hung on the walls of your bedroom
Until you turned twenty-one
It then grew old in a wooden box
Along with pictures that we took in Rome
It never felt right
To hang them on a wall
With pictures of school friends,
Of city crowds
Of ancient girlfriends
Of family dogs
Of that New Year’s Eve party in 1994
Where we’re playing by the river
And climbing trees
With friends I can’t remember
All with scabby knees
Pictures of family secrets I’m glad I’m not involved in
I found that portrait two weeks ago
I hadn’t seen it in years
Were we ever that young?
It was that whistling rivalry that made us strong
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