My Auntie was an artist
A painter and a teacher
My favorites were her fabrics
Sewed into billowing curtains and
Textured table clothes and pillows
Scattered throughout the house
In vibrant colors
As the sea breezes breathed in and out
For she always lived by the sea
With her thoughtful face
And twinkling eyes
She loved the child I was
I wished I had asked her
To tell me stories of her beatnik life
And how she adored her policeman father
I was a passive child
Observing life around me
Absorbing some of it
Rather than taking it
In my two hands
And bringing it in close
To examine in the light
I missed so much by not
Asking my questions
Some one kissed that girl
And woke her up
She is learning how to ask
Her questions now
Who and what formed
These beautiful creatures
My Auntie and me
© 2013 Julie Clark
Backfromtheborderlands's Blog 
It’s a sad “like.” Why does it take us a half-century to realize passive isn’t good?
Thanks Mary. Still growing and learning to be engaged with life.