Songs

My mother when
Asked a question by
One of us whiny kids
Would often sing us
A song in response,
This caused us some
Amusement tinged with
Angst at her evasion of our
Question though she often
Answered us but we did
Not choose to hear.
She sang of the
Little child on
The phone
Calling
Her
Mother in
Heaven sitting
On the Golden Stair,
Or about a child
Sick and not
Able to
Have her dolly
Come out and play,
She could not holler down
The rain barrel or slide down
The cellar door boo-hoo
My dolly had the flu.
An infinite number
Of songs for all
Occasions
That now
I wish I
Could
Hear
Her
Sing.
She had
Survived the
Great 1919 Pandemic
Flu and would tell us about
The little girl in her bed
Who had survived the
Flu epidemic and
When asked by
The doctor
What she
Remembered
Replied that she
Had opened the window
And in-flew-enza.