The Aunts by Lauren Kahle

The Aunts

BY JOYCE SUTPHEN

I like it when they get together

and talk in voices that sound

like apple trees and grape vines,

and some of them wear hats

and go to Arizona in the winter,

and they all like to play cards.

They will always be the ones

who say “It is time to go now,”

even as we linger at the door,

or stand by the waiting cars, they

remember someone—an uncle we

never knew—and sigh, all

of them together, like wind

in the oak trees behind the farm

where they grew up—a place

I remember—especially

the hen house and the soft

clucking that filled the sunlit yard.

Poem copyright ©2010 by Joyce Sutphen from her most recent book of poetry, First Words, Red Dragonfly Press, 2010. Poem reprinted by permission of Joyce Sutphen and the publisher.
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The Aunts by Lauren Kahle

I like it when they get together and

Talk of sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews,

Cousins, friends, gossip, sports, and the packers

Through Marlboro stained teeth, and peach stained lips

And some of them wear sun hats and sun screen

In order to evade the rays of light

That beat down on the fragile, ginger skin

They’ll always be the ones who remember

Butt in lawn chair, feet in grass, flip flops off,

About their father, their mother, childhood

And sigh, all of them together, like the

Wind of Dubuque; the breeze of flat terrain

Surfing through their windpipes, with remembrance

They’ll always be the ones with cup holders

Occupied with a corona extra

Garnished with lime wedges and a touch of sun

And they’ll always be the ones with laughter

That can be heard across the whole lake

And accompanied by shrieks of children

Running and playing, perhaps too roughly

I like it when they stick their noses in

The cooling Wisconsin air, while whiffing

The aroma of smoky barbeque

Only one thing is ever for dinner

Meat. Steak, hamburger, hot dogs, chicken, pork

The grease of which washed down with more corona

Followed by satisfied murmurs and laughs

Sneakily escaping their food filled mouths

And after they’ve had their fill, the sun falls