Only a moment and she was at my door.
I saw in horror my aunt stand before,
With uplifted hands as her eyes bore,
Riveting me in silence to the floor.
The anger, pity, grief, fear and pain
In her face made upon me its lasting stain.
In words not spoken as much as shrieked,
She revealed why her face was streaked
With the lines I saw when she appeared:
“Put that horrid thing away,” she whispered;