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Enter Poem or Quote (Required) You came into her house through the kitchen. The big door in from the front porch Hadn't been used for years; Furniture stood hard against it. A knock at the front door meant a stranger. Aunt Celesta makes a tall pitcher Of green Kool-Aid and ice cubes. She fills two glasses and we sit Together at the kitchen table. I have so much to say! I have to tell her everything that's happened Since I saw her last. The sun shines in through white curtains, The window full of little plants that are violets. You have to go out the back door for the toilet, Down some steps and a little path. She takes my hand to go down the steps. I remember my arm stretched tight Above my head to her strong hand. She lifts me at every step. I am light like a monkey! Cissa helps take down my pants And lifts me onto my place on the bench. She pulls up her own dress. We sit. We look through the pictures in the Sears catalog. She tears us out some tissue pages. Aunt Cissa got her dresses from the catalogs Or made them herself, Mama said, Because she was big. It was because she was big in the olden days That Uncle Ralph made her meet him Inside the picture show. That way No one would see. He told her The seat number and everything So he wouldn't be embarrassed. Uncle Ralph thinks he is handsome. When they are headed into town, She has to wait in the car While he goes back in to fix his hair And put on his gray-blue felt hat That matches his eyes. Auint Cissa told us. She and Mama laughed. We go into the special room that is just her own. The heavy wood door is closed. Inside is a fairyland, a big bed with white pillows And a white ceiling to it with ruffles. A pair of lady's gloves with shiny beads lies There on the white quilt cover, A tiny beaded purse with a gold handle. The pictures on the walls are Of soft-colored dogs and kittens And one of an old-fashioned lady Like a shadow against silky white milkweed. We have one like that at home; Aunt Celesta and Mama gathered the milkweed And cut out the ladies from black paper When they were girls one time. They tell me "silhouette." I rest my head on Aunt Cissa. It feels like I am folded up inside her softness. The rocking chair goes easy back and forth. I must have fell asleep because I didn't hear the car come in. Here is Mama in her feather hat And high heel shoes! I get down unsteady, Cissa's print still on my side. It feels cold where she used to be. I am a yellow balloon I drift around tall rooms Trailing a string behind me Eyes just above the table top Ears. No mouth. I wear her ring.
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