The Picture

Louden Wainwright wrote a song with this title and the lyrics spring right out of my mouth upon seeing the look on Harvey's face above.


There are pictures on the piano,
Pictures of the family,
Mostly my kids but there's an old
Picture of you and me.
You were five and I was six
In 1952;
That was forty years ago—
How could it be true?

We were sitting outside drawing
At a table meant for cards,
And it must have been in autumn,
Falling leaves in the front yard,
With a shoebox full of crayons,
Full of colors oh so bright,
In a picture in a plastic frame,
A snapshot black and white.

You were looking at my paper,
Watching what I drew;
It was natural: I was older,
Thirteen months more than you.
A brother and a sister,
A little boy and girl,
And whoever took that picture
Captured our own world.

A brother needs a sister
To watch what he can do,
To protect and to torture,
To boss around—it's true;
But a brother will defend her
For a sister's love is pure,
Because she thinks he's wonderful
When he is not so sure.

In the picture there's a fender
Of our old Chevrolet
Or Pontiac—our dad would know,
Surely he could say;
But dad is dead and we grow old;
It's true that time flies by;
And in forty years the world has changed
As well as you and I.