Connie Yost

(5/27/38 / Reed City, Michigan)

Sadie Was A Lady


Sadie was a lady
With a thirty acre farm.
Plumpest chickens in the coop,
One good milk cow in the barn.

Seven- thirty every morning,
Sun or rain that's pouring down,
Her basket full of big brown eggs,
She made her trek to town.

City patrons often brought her
Extra taffeta and silk.
A quilt was twenty dollars,
Fifty cents would buy the milk.

Sadie owned authority,
We heard her when she spoke.
Her laughter was the hardiest,
Delivering a joke.

She tended to the sick,
She baby-sat for free,
And pushed away the dollars
In her generosity.

Way too soon she left us,
In the fall of sixty-two.
Her tiny homestead vanished,
But her spirit's strong and true.

Sadie was a lady
So integral to our past.
Her giving had no boundaries,
Winning payment now at last.

Submitted: Sunday, September 08, 2013
Edited: Monday, September 09, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

We think of her so often.

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