And He Asked
He has much softer hands; his palm lines still are changing.
He was holding his pen, as this is his favorite pastime thing.
He likes to color forest green; he wants to draw the forest deep
I wish that pen wrote a free verse poem, unchained and steep.
Perhaps then the forest would be too dense to keep track, I was in a shock.
That moment he looked me in the eye and asked.” Should I draw a river or a brook?”
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