Aunt B.

She was my favorite aunt

With the big laugh

And the ashtray always close at hand.



My father's half sister,

I still miss her at odd times

And wish I could sit with her again now.



No matter what silly thing I had to say,

She would always pass the time of day

With me while one of her dogs snored away beneath the table.



She loved her mutts

And her Tigers on the radio.

She loved women too, I think,

Though now I guess I'll never know for sure.



The day she was buried was the last day I drank.

I arrived late and stayed late at the cemetery,

Where the overturned earth looked weirdly like chocolate cake.



I hope that where you've gone is as sweet as you always were to me.

I love you, Aunt B.

That's all I really wrote this poem to say.

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for Thursday Think Tank #50 at Poets United.

Book cover: "The Well Of Loneliness" by Radclyffe Hall. My aunt had this book in her little glassed-in book case where she kept her special books. It's an early lesbian classic, but by the time I realized that, it was too late to ask her about it. Anyway, I'd love to hear her infectious laugh again.
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