The World Is My Oyster
Annie sat with her mother on the porch of the family home on Apple Pie Ridge. Rocking gently in the same chair where her father sat every night. He had passed on leaving Mama alone.
She had driven most of the day through the Shenandoah Valley to get to the house in Winchester, VA. Nestled in the heart of apple pie country, she knew what would be for dessert.
“Mama, what are thinking?”, said Annie, breaking the silence.
“My darling, I know you are a career-driven Civil Rights lawyer”, she looked at her daughter with a slight frown, “but when are you going to stop crying for the bleeding hearts of the world and settle down?”
“Oh mama, please” Annie begged. “The whole world is my oyster. No, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.”
Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved
Lisa from Tao Talk is hosting Prosery Monday at D'Vere Poets.
She has prompted us to write a piece of Flash Fiction or non-fiction
using this line:
"No, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife."
–Zora Neale Hurston, from “How Does it Feel to be Colored Me” in World Tomorrow (1928)
Image by David Mark from Pixabay