dash
 
My Sister takes a Happy Family Photo
 
Behind us wisteria rampages
over the white façade.
 
My arm’s round Mum’s waist,
she’s bending into me like a reed,
curly head tilted, beaming at my brother,
 
who’s standing apart,
hand in his pocket,
looking straight at the camera.

My father’s hooked in on my other side,
turning his neck to leer at his son
– I think it’s the beard.
 
My eyes are half-closed
in a plump face,
bright bag and shaggy coat
spilling over my arm,
 
head jerked back
like a horse refusing to jump.

Hélène Demetriades

 
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Hélène Demetriades would be pleased to hear them.


This poem will appear in
Hélène's new collection, The Plumb Line, to be published in February.

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