She's always been a caution,
Aunt Matilda has,
what with her passion

for the young man
she lured home with
homemade cookies

and gin to mow
her spacious lawn
this summer afternoon

in the oven of 3 p.m.
She watches Jack
through the curtain

of her picture window
as his sweat drips
in rivulets

like Uncle Tim's.
Tim's been dead
twenty years now

but Aunt Matilda
sees him mowing
through the curtain

as she sips warm gin.
She keeps his martini
in his jelly glass.

She needs ice,
a pat on her fanny,
a grin from Uncle Tim.

Donal Mahoney