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“Aunt Bea’s Knees” by Wendie Donabie

Wendie Donabie is both a writer and an artist. She finds endless inspiration surrounded by the crystal-clear lakes, rock outcroppings of pink granite, and fragrant, majestic pines of Muskoka, Canada. Her love of language and desire to share stories that touch the human spirit drive her passion to write. When words won’t do the job, she grabs brushes, paints, plus a fresh canvas, and heads to her easel. In August 2013, Art Ascent magazine awarded Wendie first place for her flash fiction piece, Mother Earth, Mother of Us All. To learn more about Wendie’s writing and paintings, visit http://blueheronwrites.com/ and http://www.wendiedonabie.com/.

Aunt Bea’s Knees

by Wendie Donabie

Aunt Bea’s fleshy, wrinkled knees
grinned back at me like Cheshire cats—
two mute and smiling cousins.

I toddled about on my own,
knowing if I toppled over,
I could grab those solid, stable knees.

She sang nursery rhymes to entertain me,
her contagious laugh rippling through the living room ,
while I bounced on her brilliant, ever-present knees.

I wrapped my arms around her neck
giggling, drawing comfort from those knees,
the air filled with the fragrance of Lavender.

Ring around a Rosie.
I dropped to the ground
Squealing with delight.

Sing a song of Sixpence.
My hand flew up to my face
as gentle fingers snatched off  my nose.

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
One day the singing and bouncing stopped.
Her knees gone forever.

Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clemens.
I sensed her presence—the faint scent of Lavender,
“Aunt Bea?” I called out.

Here comes the candle to light you to bed.
In the still silence
the chill air embraced me

London Bridge had fallen down.

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