My memory of Frieda

She waits wearing her jacket with the fur collar,

Perfectly still, perfectly made up, her handbag on her lap,

If she is anxious it doesn’t show

She is as still as a statue, her snow white hair neat and combed

Her legs close together, her skirt pulled down,

Her gloves held loosely, rest on her handbag,

Her handbag, by the way, is empty except for a lipstick and her change purse,

She waits for her children to take her out for the holidays,

Perfectly still, perfectly made up, neatly coiffed, she is silent and waiting.

Still, small in her jacket with the fur trim,

Her gloves and her handbag in her lap

Lest I forget