Auntie Elsie's Bathroom
By Andrew John
It can be quite amazing
to an older mind that’s stretching back.
Do these memories tell the truth?
Or are they somewhat distorted?
But three times in a few minutes?
In that bathroom at Aunty Elsie’s house?
Sometimes I grasp my right hand with my left.
I seem to be saying, Cease, quit! Stop that at once!
Do not wriggle or jiggle with temptation,
as hands can and often do.
I seem to be pondering on those times,
wondering what this hand wishes to achieve.
Why did she have such an interesting son,
that older cousin David, in those teeshirts and sneakers,
showing me how to climb trees
and hide in leaves, and do things?
Amazing, yes, as thoughts reach back
to so many years ago.
Did I really do that in Aunty Elsie’s bathroom?
Three times in a few minutes?
