Frame

Nothing marks the
Insidious selfishness
Of old age like sending
Family a framed photo of
Ourselves singular or plural
As our plea for fame on the cheap.
What introspection drives us in
Our dotage to think anyone
Would want yet another
Photo of us framed or
Not in a world too far
From the times past
When a photo let
Us remember
Fondly those
Past away
In time or
Distance or
Death.