A GREAT AUNT ADMONISHES

• Pad through the snowy morning of her soul,
• your eager feet leaving a trail of shame:
• the virgin snow is tempting. Who could blame
• a small boy's mischief when at nine you stole
• forbidden apples, broke the fence? But roll
• your sleeves up now: this is a serious game.
• Play it straight like cricket with the same
• calm endeavour, confident in your role.
• And if at last you win the bitter prize
• wrap her close like dusk around the tree
• and hide her face from mocking, prying eyes
• till she has lost her fear that all can see
• the tell-tale footprints. Desecrate you can,
• boy-like: can you comfort like a man?

Return to Index

Return to Home