Poetry

Aunt Maria: A reflection

We mustn’t walk out that door. Not yet, see.

They might still be there. Or even worse, we might.

Keep out of sight. Timing is everything.

Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the rules already.

Tap tap. Hear that noise? It’s her again.

Let’s ignore her. See how she likes it.

Drowned out, background noise.

Like a buzz. A Queen Bee, I should say.

We’re not trapped in her hive anymore.

We can’t be managed.

I feel smug that she knows.