subtext

A thin white border

frames muted colors

of a blurred candid

we’ve all known:

familiar people, I don’t know,

smile posed at a table,

a space much like mine,

living lives not unlike mine.

Always with cake, and hats

no one wants to wear,

but we do what we must,

and sing along off-key,

until we are tucked away

as some one else’s memento.