barnfull of cats

I am going to my aunt’s house
I have not been there in many years,
10, or maybe 12,
though I used to spend
time with her, there
in southern Ohio,
where the towns are farther apart.
My mother and I are going
to claim quilts
from her slowly emptying house.
And I won’t see her,
hear her particular inflection,
her crooked toothed smile,
or the small laugh, so
strange from such a large woman.
I will only see my
girl cousin, close in age,
and a barnfull of cats.

written september 2015


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