A Mother and Her Son

Here is one of my favorite childhood poems, from a Scholastic book of poetry, now old and yellowed, and here is the pencil drawing I made of Abe Lincoln. I couldn't believe that I saved both all of these years. I still love Poetry, and the beauty of language, and wonder whether children still read and memorize poems in school, such as "Nancy Hanks."

"Nancy Hanks"     by RoseMary Benet

If Nancy Hanks
came back as a ghost,
Seeking news of
what she loved most,
She'd ask first,
"Where's my son?
What's happened to Abe?
What's he done?

"Poor little Abe
Left alone
Except for Tom,
Who's a rolling stone;
He was only nine
The year I died.
I remember still
How hard he cried.

"Scraping along
In a little shack,
With hardly a shirt
To cover his back,
And a prairie wind
To blow him down,
Or pinching times
If he went to town.

"You wouldn't know
About my son?
Did he grow tall?
Did he have fun?
Did he learn to read?
Did he get to town?
Do you know his name?
Did he get on?"