“Aunt Ruth” by Kevin Blankenship

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Aunt Ruth always said,
“People are gritty-
Like sand under your nails
That won’t wear or come out,
People wear on you
Like humidity, clinging like webs.”

She never married-
Well, she had more than a few men,
But they were often cast off,
Discarded when the paint showed cracks,
Replaced with a newer model.

There was that one New Orleans boy,
With a voice from the bayou
Smelling of cologne and rhythms
Of the southern night,
Pulses of magnolia and something deeper,

Aunt Ruth could fix you with a stare
That would freeze you in the summer,
Work down your back and clench your heart,
But if you asked her about New Orleans
Just for a moment,Her blue eyes softened like twilight on the water.

-Kevin Blankenship

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