The Picture

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