in evening clothes
from dining “with a princess”–
aunt’s sarcasm, knits

peeping over glasses,
she queries Swann on his
common lodgings

amusing stories
and a dull preciseness–
my great aunt doubts Swann

Swann’s secret
of a brilliant social life
kept him in our caste

hand across forehead,
eyes rubbed and glasses wiped–
dead wife remembered

fetching the liquers
to appear ordinary–
Swann’s voice

double tinkle
heralds Swann’s late visit–
no kiss tonight

too short a kiss
was Mamma’s painful goodnight–
that look!

scolding grandfather’s
forbidden taste of brandy,
she smiled

in cowardice
crying in the attic–
orris-root scent