This is...

This is my mother,

bright in her youth

her dark curls cascading,

contrasting her red lips.

The pink silk fabric,

a mirror to her heart.

The familiar dress,

I once almost ripped,

the summer before

seventh grade. 

This is my father,

young and tan,

his shirt tucked in,

his mustache thin. 

He holds me close,

between himself and Mom.

The familiar arms,

that still hold me,

and give me the 

support I need. 

These are my parents,

posing together

for my grandmother's click.

This is their wedding day.

And this is me,

a chubby baby.

in the middle of it all.