I watched an auctioneer
sell my grandma’s church clothes
to a woman no one knew;
his tongue fluttering
through consonants
by the score
while moving from box to box
of her life.
Dish and cup set!
Good condition!
The numbered cards
raised high in the air.
Clock-still runs!
Starting bids at twenty dollars.
Yup! and Yup!
and Yup! and Yup!
Lamp set! Eight dollars!
Can I get ten?
Going for ten.
Ten and a half.
Now eleven.
And it went on that way
until all was sold.
Everything gone.
And the strangers dispersed
as though from Babylon,
carrying pieces of a century-
of a family,
leaving only the plump, black ants
circling unblossomed peonies
and lilac petals
falling into unkempt grass.
Excellent.