Aunt Rolla
She had the softest face
She treated it with ointment
She’d had smallpox as a girl
I remember how kind she was
She treated her face with ointment
You could see the pits and craters
I remember how kind she was
She would let us touch her scars
You could see the pits and craters
They were smooth and rosy
She would let us touch her scars
When we were little children
Though they were smooth and rosy
Her scars disfigured her
When we were little children
We were afraid to touch
Her scars’ disfigurement
From small pox as a girl
Was explained and yet she scared us
Until we touched her face
