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Rib
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I keep the books at the country courthouse And answer phones of every kind from coast to coast Help keep the astronauts in space with complicated formules And give you echoes of my voice in song I wash your dishes iron your shirts and give you children And never mind a bit except when you forget That I am flash of your flash and bone of your bone And that Adam called me woman for I am the rib And not a footbone to be stepted on not a legbone to be walked on Not a hipbone to be sat on not a backbone to be leaned on Not a shoulderbone to be cried on not a headbone to be relied on But a ribbone to be side by side hand in hand not lesser then Not greater then but just what heaven planned



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