MY ONE FLOWER
My one flower was a ten pound girl, a sweet little thing
born swiftly. She arrived on a Tuesday morn - how
well I can remember. I missed work that day, and the
next five also. No pay; they wanted me back in but
I said 'no way.' I meant 'don't count this in a hurry.'
-
A fine young thing, she grew well. We named her
Mary Lee, hoping people would pronounce it
'Merrily'. Just a whim by her Mom and me.
-
A few years Linda died - Merrily's mother I mean
to say. I was left alone, to raise a nine-year-old girl.
Figure what would I know about that, and think for
yourself. Now I'm much older, and still alone.
Merrily left me long ago and, and she's still
out there, somewhere humming, somewhere
walking, somewhere standing around.
-
A fine young thing, she grew well. We named her
Mary Lee, hoping people would pronounce it
'Merrily.' Just a whim by her Mom and me.
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