Aunt Jennifer’s tigers prance across a screen,

 Bright topaz denizens of a world of green.

 They do not fear the men beneath the tree;

 They pace in sleek chivalric certainty.

 Aunt Jennifer’s fingers fluttered through her wool Finding even the ivory needle hard to pull.

 The massive weight of Uncle’s wedding band Sits heavily upon 

Aunt Jennifer’s hand. When Aunt is dead, her terrified hands will lie Still 

ringed with ordeals she was mastered by.

The tigers in the panel that she made Will go on prancing, proud and unafraid.

Q:

The attitude of the poet towards Aunt Jennifer is that of 

• 1
  harted
• 2
  love
• 3
  sympathy
• 4
  casual