An empty room, an empty chair. <br />Recall to me the occupant <br />although she is no longer there. <br />In my minds eyes I see my aunt. <br />The family historian. <br />She knew much more than she would tell. <br />Knew when to speak when to abstain. <br />She kept the family secrets well. <br />I used to love to visit her <br />and listen to the tales she told <br /> of her young days and how thing were <br />. In those far distant days of old. <br />Now she is gone, she was the last <br /> who knew the secrets of the past.<br /><br />ivor or ivor.e hogg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mary-harriet/
