That's Not the Case

There are days that
I don't think I look
like you at all,

that I look more like
Dad, that all his genes
were passed on to me.

So on those days,
I pull out that picture
where our hair is almost
the same,

and my smile is just about
as crooked,
as big,
as yours.

I hold them there,
side by side,
and for a fleeting moment,
I am my mother's daughter.

But only for a moment,
for when I put the picture down,
people can only compare me to Dad,
because he's alive.

And if I walked around with
that picture of you to show everyone,
people would just think

I was having a hard time
letting you go.