Aunt Doris
I suppose, looking back, she was
What they would then have called
“A bit simple”. Every Friday tea-time she’d come
And give me a sixpenny-piece to spend on chocolate,
A thin, nervous woman who sniffed and sniggered
And excused herself
With It’s only me,
As she sidled round the door.
I do not remember anything else
She ever said. Towards the end.
I was told, she grew quite cantankerous,
And very fat.
Being away at university,
I didn’t attend the funeral
And was faintly puzzled when my father said
How fond she’d been of me.
Page(s) 52
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