 |
By Phyllis Beebe
She
took the fan, my Great Aunt Sue,
That I found
in her handkerchief drawer,
Saying,"Girls
don't know what to do
With a fan
anymore.
What a pity."
And she unfurled it
so it rippled
Forgetting her old hand,
crippled
With arthritis.
Forgetting the
handkie with Eau-de-Cologne
For her headache,
she lay dreaming, alone
With her
memories.
Flirting over the fan with snapping
black eyes
Fluttering and twirling it, smiling
at sighs
Breathed long ago in her girlish
ear
By voices that now only she can
hear.
Dear ancient, dreaming, Great-Aunt
Sue
How I wish I could take a beautiful
fan
In my awkward, unskilled modern
hand
And flirt with my love the way you
do.
Visit the Fans Page
