When I’m not complaining about the present

or making fun of things that I could cry about

I tend to have nostalgic thoughts.

Fantasize about loss.

But you know that already.

My father’s second wife is on facebook now.

I had a sneaky look at her pictures.

In one she’s just fifteen.

My mother used to call her

THE SLUT

and I can’t blame her for hating her.

We all do.

But in that picture

I see a beautiful girl

who looks like my brother,

enjoying her youth.

Sunlight

filters through the pine trees

above.

I don’t hate that girl.