Family

I always went to people’s houses and envied their families

Analyzed the smiling faces staring from black frames on white walls

Pack your swirling emotions snugly into a shiny rectangle

No one argues with a pretty picture wrapped in silver

I’d like to hang a photo of my husband holding me when I am cold

A photo of him doing my laundry or baking my favorite pumpkin bread

When I cried for no reason and he consoled me with hugs and soft kind words

I wish someone had snapped those shots.

Because looking at those photos would fill my heart with love.

And I don't know if a wooden frame could contain them.

Family is a feeling.