She was a peculiar
One
With a pep in
Her step
That no one
Had seen
Before

In a time when photos
Cost thirty-five cents
Her daddy would send her
To pose on rickety steps

With her hair done up
Like someone from the past
With her face punched up
In a way that would last

In the minds of her family
Echoing with a certain grace
Though they called her crazy
She always lit up the place

Not in the normal
Womanly way
But in an anti-formal
Odd sort of play