jugglers of chaos

My aunts clucked when we got too skinny,

jeered when we got too meaty,

yet fed us the same, always enough.

One hand gave, the other measured.

‘How’s school?  Are you still friends with that girl?’

My aunts, redeemers of knocked-up nieces,

menders of broken wives, wranglers of wandering families.

 

I saw them as meddlers.

I see now they were jugglers of chaos.

 


 

Prompt: meddle

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