Spring is sprung and between sneezes, I wrote a story. Make sure you share your blooming 55 with the g-man.
She read beneath an old cypress in the park,
birdsong weaving into the Cherokee legends.
Cloaked in the words,
she mentally walked wooded trails,
Indian companion softly speaking.
Whispering tales as old as time.
“I already KNOW!” a man screeched loudly,
shattering her peace.
“Tebow is going to New Yawk!”
Reality, she sighed, was loud.