There are pictures on the piano, pictures of the family,
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Mostly my kids but there's an old
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Picture of you and me.
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You were five and I was six In 1952;
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That was forty years ago, how could it be true?
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We were sitting outside drawing
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At a table meant for cards,
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And it must have been in autumn,
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Falling leaves in the front yard,
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With a shoebox full of crayons,
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Full of colors oh so bright,
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In a picture in a plastic frame,
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A snapshot black and white.
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You were looking at my paper, watching what I drew;
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It was natural: I was older,
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Thirteen months more than you.
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A brother and a sister, a little boy and girl,
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And whoever took that picture
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Captured our own world.
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A brother needs a sister to watch what he can do,
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To protect and to torture, to boss around, it's true;
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But a brother will defend her
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For a sister's love is pure,
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Because she thinks he's wonderful
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When he is not so sure.
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In the picture there's a fender of our old Chevrolet
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Or Pontiac, our dad would know, surely he could say;
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But dad is dead and we grow old;
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It's true that time flies by;
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And in forty years the world has changed
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As well as you and I.
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The Picture
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| Loudon Wainwright III |
