Beverly’s Wake
Diana Lundell
My double-cousin once removed
laying in her casket
looks just like her mother.
She’d lost so much weight
you wouldn’t recognize her as herself.
The world had turned over.
She’d become her mother,
my great-aunt Hazel,
a face so long ago well used.
No one had seen hide or hair
of Hazel in decades
then all of the sudden
she surfaces in a white dress
masquerading as her daughter,
saying I was always here
you just weren’t seeing right.
