Who Keeps Your Photo In Their Wallet?

He seems surly, smells of smoke,
scowls and grunts and drinks and
pulls a wallet overstuffed
with photos of smiling children,
photos of weddings,
of a wife, gone,
and a life lived-in,
he grumbles through descriptions:
grandchildren, Myrtle Beach,
ice fishing on Superior,
a puppy named Spud,
a Holstein calf,
and always his children,
their children, nieces,
nephews, all of it
with him, always,
softening the scowl,
quieting the grunts,
all from the photographs
kept in his pocket.

Leave a Reply