Mary Jones

[new poems from Mary Jones, my dearly-beloved 92-year-old aunt]

Tommy

There’s Tommy with Rascal
and Nicky and Sam
out there on the ice,
but that’s not where I am.

Not there on the ice
in Medway, not now
though that would be nice
but saddening somehow.

I came here to Chelmsford
to live out my years
— reminiscing with photos
happiness, tears.

Looking at photos
sorting papers and stuff
brings back many memories
but that’s not enough.


Lily

There’s Lily on the river
paddling the canoe
all by herself
as often she would do.

Our long green canoe
how many it has carried
all my brothers and my sisters
even more, when they were married.

And out there on the river
out there on the brook
up to the old swimming hole
or down to the dam, to look,

out there on the river
in the long green canoe
over the sky in the river
there she is, just passing through.