9 September 2026, Freewriters Community Daily Writing Prompt Day 3221: write a poem

“So, the thing is, sometimes you need to write a poem and sometimes you just need to roll up on the people and tell it like it is, and for that part, call me!”

Eight-year-old Edwina Ludlow was giving advice to everybody in particular about a very nice letter to the editor in the Big Loft Bulletin about a very serious issue. Edwina had picked up that her grandparents, Capt. R.E. and Mrs. Thalia Ludlow, had read it and were thinking about it, so she got over her grandmother's shoulder, read it, and was not impressed.

“How are you going to be nice to people that you know are making excuses about all the people who lost their homes because nobody would listen to Great-Grandfather about Bayard Heights and how to build it? How are you going to be nice to people who don't care about all the favorite toys that were lost – and the snacks?” Edwina continued.

Capt. and Mrs. Ludlow looked at each other.

“The toys and the snacks – they might not even have thought about that,” Capt. Ludlow said as he pushed the bowl of grapes over so that Edwina could get to them more easily.

“That's what I'm saying!” Edwina said as she came around, sat down between her grandparents, and started in on the grapes. “I'm tired of living in a world in which nobody but y'all and our Lee cousins and our brown family with all the Trents and Stepforths and Duboises in it cares about the children!”

“Well,” Mrs. Ludlow said, “you know how we have taught you to say please and thank you?”

“Well, yeah,” Edwina said.

“Sometimes things go better, and you get more help if you need it, when you ask nicely,” Mrs. Ludlow said. “Even adults, sometimes, observe this.”

“This person who wrote this letter is being kind,” Capt. Ludlow said, “because she is also laying out facts and appealing for other people to see them as well.”

Edwina considered this.

“So, basically, raising an army in front of everyone, and they can't stop it because it was said nicely?”

“When you actually have enough power in a situation,” Mrs. Ludlow said, “you don't have to be loud. Read down to the end and see who wrote the letter, Edwina.”

Edwina did so, and smiled.

“Hey – I know her – that's Cousin Harry's grandma, Mrs. Selene Slocum-Lofton!”

“And when does Grand Queen Selene ever need to raise her voice?” Mrs. Ludlow said.

“Never – you know what, you're right, because, when I grow up,” Edwina said. “I love her! Her fashion stays on point, and, she never has to ugly cry or ugly yell at anyone. I'm actually OK with doing both because all my life I had to fight, but, when I grow up!”

Capt. Ludlow turned his head away for a moment … the years in foster care had not been kind to Edwina and several of his other six grandchildren before he and Mrs. Ludlow could adopt all of them, and it still angered him to the point that ugly crying and ugly yelling were possible. However, he had not done that either. There were other means.

“There are other ways,” he said to his granddaughter when he looked back, “to get things done, sometimes. If EVER you see a letter like this from Selene Slocum-Lofton, just know: things are about to get done!”

Mrs. Selene Slocum-Lofton was a billionaire, remarried to an exceptionally high millionaire – they quietly engaged in their old age on civic matters in Lofton County, and they had no patience for the kind of foolishness that had been done at Bayard Heights. Mrs. Slocum-Lofton's first husband, Aaron Slocum-Lofton, had funded many of the projects Edwina's great-grandfather, Edwin Ludlow, had built, and her second husband, John Worley, had funded many things that Edwin Ludlow Jr. had built.

Capt. and Mrs. Ludlow knew what was going on. Edwin III and Garlene Ludlow, the heirs of Ludlow Architecture and Engineering, were about to get paid with some other good firms to rebuild things right. The letter to the editor was basically Mrs. Slocum-Lofton's nice way of letting others know: get on board or get out of the way.

“Well, OK, but, I still need her to call me if we need to roll up,” Edwina said as she ate another grape and snuggled into Mrs. Ludlow.

“You know Cousin Harry has her number,” Mrs. Ludlow said. “You can ask her yourself about this letter.”

“You know what, yeah,” Edwina said, “because I do have some other thoughts. This might have even been more powerful written in purple marker. Yeah, I'mma call because, yeah, I do have thoughts.”

Col. H.F. Lee set up the Zoom call between two of his favorite people later on and just got into the next room with a pillow to eavesdrop and laugh until he cried.

“Queen Selene and Grandee Leedlow, on a call!” he said to his wife Maggie, “and you know my grandmother ADORED Hilda 'Grandee' Lee, Edwina's great-grandmother!”

“And ordered you to have Edwina call more often so they can get their intergenerational fashion and power-playing strategies together,” Mrs. Lee said as her husband rolled over laughing again.