The Last Can [ Of ] To[mato] [ Soup ] … [ Inspired By Lora Colon's 'the Last Canto'; Mom And Sick Child; 'the Old Days'; It Is Mostly True; Short] Poem by Bri Edwards

When I was a kid and got a cold, my mom kept me ……secure.
She put me to bed, and gave me buttered toast and soup ….to cure.
And ginger ale, Canada Dry I suppose. Only the ‘best' for Bri!
[It didn't suffice when pneumonia I got (twice) : I wonder: ….'Why? ']

In 'those days', nearly 60 years ago, our doctor DID make house calls.
[‘Twas nice for Mom and me to NOT have to leave our home's walls, but, ....
NOW, to get a Dr. to come to your home may 'cost you' one of your 'balls' …
OR ovaries! ! ]

Back then I mostly just got colds. None of my bones did I ever …..break.
But I easily could have, since I climbed trees a LOT, …..for Goodness Sake!

My mom is gone now. Things aren't the same. My mate ‘swears by' echinacea.
'It' prevents and/or cures colds! ! She may even recommend for …..amnesia! ! !
No ginger ale enters this house. In fact, No soda pop; 'mate' MIGHT call it 'poop'.
Yes, it was my 'Dear Mom' who, FOR ME, opened the 'Last Can Of Tomato Soup'.

: (

(December 23, 2016)