Sister/Photograph

I see
60's, garden
chequered travel rug.
Our dad's a rogue
his quiff, our mum
a crocheted dress.
And you and me.
I'm portly, you are grand
you have new shorts
a buzz cut
a cricket bat. I am yet
to walk, square
in our father's lap
Granny looking on
in outsize sun specs.
It takes a time
to see our sister.
Only half of her is there.
One leg in a caliper
black square cut fringe
halved, one spectacled eye.
She's on the edge of it
the rug, the picture
our life.