A Girl Said, What Is A Rose Poem by James McLain

Being who it is you think I am, I replied.
Run over out back yonder a ways.
Inside the window facing right turn east.
Go and fetch me one that has some perfume about it.
And colored, color it means so much and everything.
Like it does some cherry color and or peach.
Carefull they have thorns about their skinny waist.
As will yours someday.
Monday in Mississippi is like Tuesday in Missouri.
Replied the daughter of her mother she said as much.
Wherein I realised,
she was not unlike her father about that.