A Poem for Women’s History Month

File:Queen Mary's Crown.png

Wee Elizabeth Learns to Count

My father was under the impression

that girls didn’t do math

couldn’t do math

shouldn’t do math,

but very young, and in spite of my gender,

I learned that one sickly son

was greater than the sum of two daughters

brimming with their father’s temper,

that a mother with divided loyalties

could easily be separated into two parts,

that each sworn love could be added,

subtracted,

one cancelling out another,

that both waistlines and egos

were subject to exponential expansion,

and that when asked to account for one’s

self,

it’s always preferable to keep the

remainder at one.

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