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Mabel is breathing....     no one ever visits. She has tended flowers and done laundry all     life for others. No one needs her.     She has a bad knee and Neuropathy , subsists now on pain medication and sugars.     No one calls her. She envisions one day getting flowers.     Or hearing again from that gentleman, who twenty years ago smiled.     Or her children or grand young ens'; but no one writes her one letter.      In the cold she wears all those sweaters she knitted. So no  people remember her, I will!     I visit and bring the flowers I grew specially for her,     the prettiest yellow roses, while she lives!
0
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
ode to Mabel
Mabel is breathing....     no one ever visits. She has tended flowers and done laundry all     life for others. No one needs her.     She has a bad knee and Neuropathy , subsists now on pain medication and sugars.     No one calls her. She envisions one day getting flowers.     Or hearing again from that gentleman, who twenty years ago smiled.     Or her children or grand young ens'; but no one writes her one letter.      In the cold she wears all those sweaters she knitted. So no  people remember her, I will!     I visit and bring the flowers I grew specially for her,     the prettiest yellow roses, while she lives!
wordvango
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
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