Pillow poem. We three in the patio of Kike: Mark and I looking grumbly, Claire looking irresistibly cute with a pacifier and curls.
we three in the children’s section, CSH library that first summer in NY
for the record, i was wearing shorts
we three. Mom calls us her patitos or her pollitos.
Each summer we dreaded the self-conscious photo shoot in Punta, an hour clustered together on a log in a party dress and the grass tickling your ankles. All the grownups were determined to see our beautiful smiles. But smiles vanished under the flashbulb of the meticulous Teddy, local photographer extraordinaire. Man was dull and old as salt.
family of fashion, modeling gifts from gma and gpa
We’re not the jet set,
we’re the old chevrolet set.
But ain’t we got love.
