Aunts By Natalie Frenette

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.

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Week 1: Imitation 1

Aunts

By Natalie Frenette

I have a lot of them where I grew up

Loud and laughing all of us together

Family gatherings are my favorite

Family all around, aunts specifically,

They sound like chirping birds chatting closely.

Catching up on life since the last meeting.

I can’t ever quite tell what they’re saying

A dull humming comes from their corner

Almost like they’re whispering but not quite

Aunts know everything going on inside

Everyone’s dirty laundry and baggage

Baggage is a tricky thing for my aunts

Swirling on a carousel displayed

Bags of all shapes and sizes and colors

Who knows what’s inside, they surely do not

Fantasies and rumors fill them instead

They don’t want you to know which one is theirs

So they just keep talking and watching them

Round and around and around they swirl

Once they’re all claimed they go for their own

Aunts know aunts but everyone else doesn’t

They cling together like a family gang

Bound by their secrets only they all know

Whispering in the corner, discussing

Baggage swirling on a carousel

They talk about it and whisper some more

Everyone’s dirty laundry and baggage

Swirling on a carousel displayed

They love it so much and just can’t help it

Whispers in the corner, Aunts know it all