36 Corn Road, Part 2 – Aunt Imogene




She was never just sitting there, waiting for us

She knew we were coming

But that couldn’t keep her from

The work at hand

Chores to her, but her legacy to others


Who would be the first to find her?

Sweet Aunt Imogene, earth mother

Would she be working in the garden

Tending to her rooted accomplishments

Her labor of love that would nourish us time and again


Would she be in the hen house?

Gathering eggs in her work worn apron

Or taking the “last walk” with one she had nurtured

Who would now take its place at the dinner table

Or more correctly put, “on” the dinner table


By the pleasant twitch of my nostrils

I would gather she was in her kitchen

A place so small and dark with coal dusted floors

Yet a place that brought about warmth and love



The vibrant colors of her beautiful harvest

Made even the oldest of porcelain dishes

Come to life like a finely crafted painting

But one for our consumption, not just for viewing



When she felt we had our fill

And the empty vessels cleaned and put back in their place

Behind the curtained cupboards,

She would take us out for an adventure

What would it be this time?


Would we canvass the hills for the perfect

Leaves and nuts, or butterflies for our school projects

Or would we go digging for old bottles

Blue ones, green ones, clear ones, ones with labels or corks

What had been in them, who left them behind for us to find?


Or would we be so lucky to have her share

Her button collection

Tin after tin, dumped out on the creaky feather bed

She knew where she found that black one or the one

That looked like it came from a movie star’s dress.

Always a story, now a great memory.


It was time to go

But we never left empty handed.

A trip to the root cellar, though scary

With the possibility of interrupting a snake’s nap,

Always ended with a basket of jarred goodness

The best of her…..home with us

Until we needed, more correctly, wanted, to come back for more.

More food, more adventures, more Aunt Imogene.


I miss her!

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