by Barbara
Welton
There’s this
picture of me
a photo in sepia
holiday novelty
snap
in costume.
I am eighteen years
and somehow perfect
with my black hair
plaited
impossibly long
and my dark eyes
looking
away over there.
I recall the hat
was blue
an ostrich feather
waving
over my right eye,
my neck looks long
and I seem serene.
That was the
holiday
my sister found
her second lump
but everything’s
fine in
this picture
of me and the
Gainsborough hat.