So they tore down
the blue house
next door.
Now Aunt Bessie is gone,
and almost everyone
has forgotten her.
But I remember the stories she would tell,
and the mapley taste
of her syrup candy.

And I remember
how she kept my secret
when the cat had kittens
under her porch.
I still have one
of them, Taffy,
but its mother ran away
the day Aunt Bessie
died.

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