I Took Aunt Wilma to Lorena’s Grave

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

I took Aunt Wilma to Lorena’s grave,
But first we’d gone to Walmart where she chose
A dark gardenia.  I became her slave.
I paid the money, helped her to dispose
Her fragile body in the Chevrolet,

And drove her to La Grange.  There’s nothing grand
There:  tiny chapel, lots of tombstones (gray
Remembrances), hot sandspurs, and flat sand
That I was forced to dig.  The light poured down
Pitlilessly and then I poured the jars
Of water we had brought.  Later the frown
Of knowledge taught me that the land of Mars
Was just as healthy for such plants.  They die
A dry, stared death in the ruthless sun’s eye.