Oh, happy family,
silent and bright, smiley.
The oldest boy, thirteen, wiry,
a lean bean plant growing
at his father's side.
The younger one, Afro-ed,
exuberant, almost leaping
out of frame. Mom,
coy yet confident,
doing what she
must do - succeeding,
so she thinks.
Dad,
the pillar of dreams,
stands in the back
looking taller than
Kilimanjaro clouds
that push down
on the world.
He holds them at bay,
Atlas of the Suburbs,
but only for seconds, until
the shutter snaps open-close,
and he can no longer
hold that pose.
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