Pinnacle

In an old house in Paris
that was covered with vines,
she changed her hat
and dressed to the nines.

Dressed to the nines
she left for the peaks
and wished for boots
and pondered weeks

Where in the news
top men were fired
again and again.

And women were tired
of that old trope
of disrespect

Now was there hope?

They were not afraid of war
All were sisters at their core.

And in the middle of one valley
Miss Clavel began to rally

And, not wanting to give in,
Miss Clavel thrust out her chin.

Pinnacle

“I will not let them get to me,”
she said aloud, “and they will see
that we will march upon the land
for decency, and take a stand.”

“Me too,” she said.

And she hiked back down –
and took off her hat –
There won't be any more
nonsense like that.