February 2003  

A Short History of Romance   © by   Janice Sullivan
 

At the bottom of Mother's velvet box
faded photographs
hidden inside a brown envelope.
My brother holds snapshots
under a brass lamp.
"My god," he says,
"here's Dad with another woman.
And another."

One, a dime store clerk
holds a bouquet of hydrangeas.
Another presses her full breasts
close to our father. They clutch each other,
lean on Uncle B.B.'s black sedan.

My brother finds Mother's picture
tucked away in a cardboard box.
Alone in her linen arm chair
her face is erased
only a white mask remains.

We sit by a warm fire
watching oak logs burn.
My brother tosses the other women
into blue flames. With a fine point pen
he etches in Mother's face.

Previously published in the North Carolina Poetry Society's
Award-Winning Poems 2002. Used with the poet's permission.
NOTICE: The poem on this page is copyright © by the poet.