I would rather have a ghost
Sing a ghostly song
At least, I will have his company.
Dressed in this cursed spinster's silk,
I look like a carved saint.
They say I may be better off a nun,
At least I can be the handmaiden of Jesus.
Better than making faces with my old dog,
My singing parrot and my crossed-eyed cat.
They say I look like a cracked vase
Not paired
Like a lost soul drifting at midnight
Under a waning moon.
And if I die old,
No one will cry
Sincere cries of truthful sorrow
At my funeral
But I will remain a spinster,
Even if I hope it would not be so.
I hardly have anything left
Besides a puzzle,
A sneer and a do-not-care.
In year 2000 when I visited home, at dinner table, my family and relatives made fun of me, and my little nephews called me spinster auntie, it really hurt, but I never said anything…