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