Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Dear Miz Erma

You were no kin of mine
but I looked after you like one of my own
You were demanding and ungrateful
fractious and fussy
persnickety and grumpy
and no matter when I came
I was late
You never even learned my name
but whenever I think of you
I can't help but smile
The Other White Girl


Kerry O'Connor said...

So much character and caring packed into these lines.

Brian Miller said...

haha...this is awesome...it made me smile just thinking about her...you know she loved you...

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Wonderful - full of obvious love.

Rachel Hoyt said...

LOL. Such a sweet piece and endearing tribute. Racism goes both ways, but we can love in spite of it. :)

Helena said...

There's little bits of my mum-in-law in this, God rest her crabby soul!

A splendid and emotional tribute. God bless her too......x

Hey Monkey Butt said...

This is the lady I can picture singing your other post :) yes I managed to read them out of order, hey what can I say. Just my luck!

M. A. S. said...

Well, that made me cry.
Beautiful words.

Jo-Anne's Ramblings said...

Lovely and made me think of Shirley who is the old lady who shares a room with my nan at the nursing home I always say hello to her but she has no idea who I am but she gets no visitors so I like to talk to her

Bryan White said...

"and no matter when I came
I was late"

Yeah, I know a couple of them.