T.A. Cullen

When I was young we got a camera
a simple black box camera
a silver framed view finder on top.

We took pictures of the whole family
brother Bill shirtless
skinny swimming in his trunks
a sad half smile
that left you to wonder,
flexing his biceps
in a display of manliness.

My sister sunning herself on the grey float
in the middle of the lake
alone an island
waiting to sail away.

Me with a bluegill,
spinning on the line
wanting everyone to notice
my first big fish.

Or my extraordinary genius
for staying afloat
just barely swimming.

These pictures are in a couple of shoeboxes
on an upper shelf
in a seldom used closet
in a guest bedroom
in the attic of the bungalow
where my parents lived.