In Memory of Auntie Friday
Fireflies ascend in the darkness on
this humid summer night in Baltimore.
Hours since I learned of Ida's passing,
at peace, in her sleep, in England.
Ida -- "Auntie Friday" -- my Mum Yoria's
old schoolmate. I recall the cheery
lady who minded me each Friday
at her Liverpool home where I first
learned to toddle sixty years ago.
The story Mum told of her and Ida
sunbathing along the Wye near
Hereford, waving to two boys
on the opposite bank -- the four
flirted at a distance, never met.
Four kids who romanced on the Wye
on a summer day before the war.
Christopher T. George