Manus Mana Lavat Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

When my favourite Aunt,
you know the name,
had settled back in bed
to rest and contemplate,
how she would, knowing
that the time had come,
depart in dignity and peace,
as an example of the class,
the pride of all our family,
tradition and genetics,
and reputation, most of all,
in our small town, it was the least
that one could do,
she called me over,
near the lamp of oil,
that smelly stuff,
amply supplied
by Trader Hans
on Tuesday mornings.

'Listen m'boy', she said,
a whisper only,
'you must make sure that
when the bearers,
the men of strength
are chosen
for the task
of carrying me,
your favourite Aunt
out to God's Acres,
come this Friday,
you see to it
that a fair balance,
is struck at once,
avoid the trouble
of swaying,
bobbing coffin journey,
it is in life
as must in death
a certain fairness
of importance.
You see,
so many do believe,
that see-saw living
dilly-dally
and vaccillating,
indecision
is what is human,
therefore true.'
My Aunt,
the favourite one,
at that,
was little sister
to the other,
who was, of course,
and as you know,
no smaller than
a Southern Rhino,
so rest assured
that this one knew
that when she worried
she only did
what did make sense.
She never had
spent any time
on any street
as inventory.
So we made sure
that laissez-faire
was banned,
replaced by
just Fair Play,
what one side gives
the other taketh
and no one gets
the stick's short end.

Thus, I remember
that we share,
this world,
the oxygen,
the water.
And when I wash
your dirty hand
I do expect
your kind return
you would not want
to sway and bob
and if you do
please go away.