On Being Jewish, Perhaps
The staircase is L-shaped
with a huge cactus in the corner.
Be careful with that,
my mother says every time
we go to visit my aunt Pepa.
Today we are there
because her son has died.
Her son was away, in college.
He wanted to be a lawyer but
liked music most of all.
He died suddenly, they say.
Everybody is in the kitchen,
my aunt and the neighbors,
all women, dressed in black.
My mother is not,
she didn’t have time to change.
My aunt Pepa is sitting in a low chair,