Vera
The winter wind whisked her along Fifth Avenue
to Central Park. She stood above the lake
skimmed with ice. Her brothers hurling rocks
had hoped to make a hole that wouldn’t freeze again.
Intent upon their burden, they ignored
a little girl who stood meekly at their side.
“I can break the ice so it won’t freeze again.”
“Tommy-rot,” they said and shut her out.
But she could prove she was as smart as they.
A she leapt from the bridge and her brothers learned
when Vera spoke, they’d better listen.
You never met my mother? We do have to correct that. And thank you for the compliment. I learned everything I know from your mom and Ellen.
I hope I'll get to meet her someday 😀
(And her daughter is one of the most wonderful people I know!)
Abby, my mom, indeed, is still amazing. (And look at the wonderful child she produced!)
Your mom was amazing!
Loved the poem. Maybe next time they will listen to little sister.
Thanks for the response, Laura. Yes, my mother was quite the character.
I guess she showed them, eh?
Hugs, L