The shadow my mother
makes she makes
by mistake. Take
two, she says, rearranging
us in front of the camera,
in front of the brick
wall that is the sea we
are forbidden to drown
or swim in. All these
years we stare her
down, sullen, sun-
blinded. What was 
the photo meant
to document? Not
that we were there—
or anywhere—but that
someone was looking.