Two Sides of a Coin

She stands there in knickers, A cap on her head, Looking tomboyish, truant and tough And a cigarette dangles From unsmiling lips To warn all she’s not taking their guff. It’s a sepia snapshot, The 20’s, I’d guess, The photographer long in his grave, But the girl is my grandmother Though I’ll admit It’s an image she’d choose not to save. All the years that I knew her, So quiet and prim, Don’t quite match with the face in the frame. That’s the reason I treasure This photo of old, ‘Cause both Jennys were one and the same.