Friday, September 25, 2015

"She Dotted Every i" (c)

"She Dotted Every i"

Bartender, Bartender,
bring me another,
I just got back from
the funeral of my mother.

She had worked at the church
rather later that day,
prepared some meals and
loaded them up,
before getting on her way.

But before she could leave,
a stranger appeared.
"Can you help me?" he said.
"I have no where to live."

She called local shelters,
and while her favorite hymn played,
the stranger proceeded
to brandish his blade.

Once, twice, three times, four,
on the fifth attack my mother
fell to the floor.

A random harsh act
on a woman gentle, kind,
Left the community in shock,
the halls of justice, blind.

"She put action into
her hands and her heart.
She made helping others
an objective, an art."

"Yes, she was the best,"
the supervisor replied.
"She crossed every "t"
and dotted every "i."

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