She is peeping over papers,
stuff that has heaped since her death.
All I see is eyes.
Sometimes, Mom, sometimes me thinks it would be good to sit and sip coffee and chat.
Gerald the Writer
Poetry, essay, and prose, oh my!
She is peeping over papers,
stuff that has heaped since her death.
All I see is eyes.
Sometimes, Mom, sometimes me thinks it would be good to sit and sip coffee and chat.
Gerald the Writer 