When my father died a few
Of his angels invited his wolfmen
And Ming the Merciless to a wake
His witches -- wicked but with
Strange kindness streaked through them --
Brought great piles of apples. As my plus one
I brought my grandmother at 17, before
She'd learned English so we spoke
In gestures or at least I think we did;
It may be that she wasn't revealing
Secrets hidden since 1901 but just
Felt like dancing.
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