On Being Corrected By An Elder Poem by Lone Dog

One brisk autumn day,
As I was walking along the riverfront,
I stopped to talk to an elderly lady
Who was seated in a small motorized scooter
With a bright orange triangular flag
Flapping above it in the breeze.
She had paused a moment
To take in the beautiful view and, perhaps,
To soak up the last remnants of the sun's warmth
Before the onset of winter.
She indicated that she was a long way
From her place of residence
And was grateful for the mobility
That her scooter provided.
Noting the great distance she had travelled,
I asked her how far
Her scooter could run on its batteries?
With a look of disgust, she quickly retorted,

'The scooter doesn't run on batteries,
it runs on electricity! '

Taken aback, I sheepishly nodded in agreement,
Realizing that she was absolutely correct.