Aunt Mae, thin as a reed,
but not nearly as supple
she save photos and programs,
old clothes, shoes she’d outgrown
and dentures in a can.
Not one for mincing her words,
she was noted for her sharp tongue
and her rich kitchen,
She baked and roasted, sautéed
and toasted, and was well noted
for her generosity.
As I mentioned, she saved everything
but we, her closest kin
were hard pressed to explain
why she kept that antique coffee grinder
with handle missing, coffee beans
still in its drawer,
and one old spare tire on a rusted rim,
worn thin of any tread, and busted
but we were sure there was a reason,
so, as a matter of respect
we kept them too,
or maybe, in truth, we keep them
just to cause consternation
to the next generation.
After all, why deprive them
of the pleasure of such a find,
and the glory
of creating their own story
about Aunt Mae, whom none of us really knew
until she was gone.