Auntie

I remember the box of pretties at my great aunt’s house. With shells and rocks and leftover ribbon. I remember the Maxwell House coffee can With the tiny bird that didn’t make it. I remember the red brick porch and the huge white columns. I remember her giant clock in the shadowy hallway. I remember her sitting in a lavender floral dress With the rustling newspaper in her weathered hands. I remember the magnifying glass making the words big. I remember her wispy white hair caught back in a bun And her glasses sliding down her nose. I remember thinking how wonderful To be like her someday.