Between Bruises & Blooms

I wonder what your smile
would look like now.

Not the smile
I can imagine
on a baby.

The awkward,
half-grown grin
of an eleven-year-old
trying desperately
not to look
like a little kid anymore.

Would you insist
on choosing your own clothes
for picture day?

Would I spend the morning
fixing your hair,
only for you
to undo everything
before the photographer
called your name?

Would you bring home
a photograph
you absolutely hated
while I insisted
it was beautiful?

I have watched children
turn into themselves
one school year
at a time.

Watched faces change,
baby teeth disappear,
and personalities
grow louder
than the little bodies
carrying them.

I was supposed
to witness
all of that
with you.

Instead,
I must imagine
a face
I was never allowed
to watch grow.

And every October,
when I think about
school pictures,

I wonder
what you would look like
standing beside
your brothers and sisters.

Five children.

One photograph.

Nobody missing
from the frame.