Blinded by a Picture

A Poem by Treble

We stand by the shore,
her little fingers intertwined
in our hands.
A silver frame surrounds
the blue waves
and brown sand.
His green eyes twinkle,
her smile is bright,
my cheeks are red.
I take the photo by the frame,
and I throw it against the wall,
sinking down to the ground.
I hear a little pitter-patter of feet,
and she is in my lap.
I stroke her little curls.
I feel her tears soak my shirt
as she asks why I'm sad.
I tell her I'm not, but she knows better.
She asks where daddy is.
I tell her he's just on a trip,
but I want to say,
I think he wouldn't have
broken the family
if I had seen the signs.
I think he wouldn't have
broken the family
if I hadn't been blinded by a picture.