Sure, Maryann,
here's one of the best of them:
Long Last
Suddenly, not long before
Her eighty-first birthday,
The younger sister died.
Next morning, the elder lay
Asking the open door
Why it was light outside,
Since nobody had put on
The kettle, or raked the ashes,
Or come to help her find
The dark way through her dress.
This went on till nearly one.
Later, she hid behind
The gas stove. 'Amy's gone,
Isn't she,' they remember her saying,
And 'No,' when the married niece
Told her the van was coming.
Her neck was leaf-brown.
She left cake on the mantelpiece.
This long last childhood
Nothing provides for.
What can it do each day
But hunt that imminent door
Through which all that understood
Has hidden away?
__________________
Aaron Poochigian
Last edited by Aaron Poochigian; 06-19-2017 at 05:18 PM.
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