Aunt Jean

She said
“I don’t know how to die”
Like it was some kind of embarrassment
She said
“I have a few things at the house
You keep them for me . . .
The christmas ornaments
Under the stair . . .
I always wanted you to have them . . .”

And so I’m here
In the dust
A ragged
dusty spider web
Lingers in the corner

It will be dark soon

I find the box
Aged cardboard box
A goofy styrofoam ball
Decorated with white glue and glitter . . .
And a red bird
A cardinal ~ because its the state bird
God that was so important to my young heart
To get the perfectly corect bird
For my Aunt
Who loved me
When others . . .

I hate the way tears and dust mix

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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