Robert Vaughan

An observer would have
thought her unsuited
for that frame.
I wondered why my
parents kept the photo on
the piano. She'd died over
ten years ago. Died on her
own, by her own stupidity.
A visitor would have
thought her adorable,
precocious, serene.
Unable to see the contagious
recklessness. Unable to see
the damage she inflicted.
How my family came undone.
I slip her photo into
the desk drawer. Underneath
a stack of report cards.