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Aunt Tilley

Old Aunt Tilley

From Nantucket Island

Who babysat my brothers and sister and I

With a battery of weapons;

A sharp tongue;

Tales of the unexpected;

Wrinkles to the hilt,

And a hairy chin

That would dive-bomb us at bedtime,

Setting off the first explosions in my youth,

Spiking my held breath;

Injecting into my future

An incurable love for life