My Name is Rose

By Lee Carlson

I turn 95 next July.

Even so I’ve a lot

to be thankful for.

‘Course it hurts when I crawl

out of bed –

hips, knees, feet

you name it.

Still my grip is strong . . .

I open jars for friends and

manipulate a needle,

for quilting of course.

My heart swells with gratitude.

Oh, by the way, thanks

for calling me Rose.

– Lee Carlson lives in Lawrence.