Something to Do for Aunt Clara

Something to Do for Aunt Clara

by Robert Bly

There’s something we hold to in the morning. Maybe

It’s just the light, or the way the clock by the bed

Changes slowly, or how wall paintings gradually

Become clear, or the good weight of the eiderdown.

Maybe it’s all the books here in this room.

And the sound of dishes rattling, and the teenagers

Waking up, and a child muttering to herself. Now we have time

For the last few sips of coffee before we go to the funeral.