(I’ve never written a poem
about my Aunt Blanche.
Until now.
Aunt Blanche her family called her Blummy
never married she was engaged
once to someone at Yale Medical School
and she did not marry him I can only
make up reasons why
according to my family she’s the one
who broke up the engagement I wish
I knew his name and maybe then
I would pursue the Real Story
Aunt Blanche did not have a job
my father supported her
and my grandmother they lived
in a big white house a few blocks
away from ours I would visit her
once a week after school sometimes
she gave me one scoop of ice cream
only one scoop in the same glass dish
she wore powder blue to match her eyes
her car was blue too
she was skinny and then she was plump
over the years I’ve always wondered
who she really was and now
there’s no one left to ask.
Thank you. I had a similar experience of my Aunt Vera and this poem really resonates for me.
No One Left To Ask. So poignant...