Today,
mom came through,
bless her heart,
and sweet texts.
also,
crimson tides—
that curse,
from the beginning.
and vexations,
there was a squabble,
passenger and drunken tout,
“Ten shillings!¿to your stage?”
he could’ve smacked her, “economy’s tight take your pocket change to charity, i’ve got a business to run.” she heaved, alighting with a “thanks.” what a sight!
Comments