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Scarbro’ 47

you’ve written on the back
Of the crinkled print.
I turn it over. You as usual,
Look slightly surprised,
Caught gazing out to sea
By the click of the camera.

Today you look flushed,
The sea breeze has disturbed
Your hair hiding the smile you’ve
Given my father. What catches
Me is your face, which is mine,
And I think, just for a second
That you are me.

But then I see you have on
That flowered, full white dress
Again, which doesn’t quite hide
The bulge. All of which reminds
Me that this is you, smiling, almost
My mother, although clearly
I am already your child.

But there is no print;
It’s how I like to imagine us,
A family in my only photograph.
That and the certificate,
Where it’s just you and me
Mother - father is unknown.

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