Bleary eye

Knock on my forehead.
Before I open my eyes,
You.

She has decided to pester me.

"I want a story."

Sad, or happy?

"Both"

Let me see.
I might have one.

Let us talk about the green roses.

Normally,
a sign of mourning,
still tossed into the river.

Later in the day,
a fisherman has a green rose in his hat.

I smile.
I cry.

"You still have stories."

Think to myself.
She will keep me around.

Reviews

[Papaya]

She is still asking for stories. :)

[Jon Roggie]

Thinking...

[Lorry]

We still have stories to keep us going, thankfully. Some crowds are tough to please though :)

[Jon Roggie]

I have a fun time with these writes. Chance to tell a story.