There once was a child named Sadie
Who bounced, jumped, and twirled
As bands slipped from hair uncurled.
Would Sadie ever become a lady?
Now ninety, age has done her no favors
And sitting has now replaced labors.
Her mind is laced with memories:
Little Sadie with skinned up knees,
Learning manners, like saying “please”
And cover your mouth when you sneeze.
Sadie watches as a man came to push her chair
She reached up and patted his hand.
Saying “Who raised you? You’re a fine young man?”
“You did, Mom,” he said, adjusting the ribbon in her hair.
Written for Rochelle https://rochellewisoff.com/2020/12/02/4-december-2020/