My great-aunt warned me about men
in theater seats when I was ten,
and always in a house or car
to notice where the exits are,
to carry bus fare in my purse
and watch for Peeping Toms or worse.
But now I have no heart to laugh
at morbid fears on my behalf.
Those once keen-sighted eyes are sealed
that watched me to the playing field,
and heavy weights are on the tongue
that cautioned me when I was young.
No dangers now surround the bed
where aunt lays down her fearless head;
in Gothic garments she lies dumb,
where neither thieves nor lovers come.
Death of My Old Maid Aunt
– September 1, 2011
