Untitled

Aniase 

and I joked

as we set up a small

deck of playing 

cards in our 

kitchen.

Margret, 

Sensitive Margret, 

took it the 

wrong 

way.

"Stop,"

Margret cried.

"I don't need 

one more

mother."

She 

Slammed 

the flowers

on the table.

Then turned

on her 

heel.

Once

she stormed 

out, my gaze fell

 on Anaise,

"What

do we do?"

I asked. Margret

was in charge.

We hung

back.

Anaise

only shrugged.

"When she's ready

she'll come

back."

Aniase 

was right. 

As soon as we 

set up our deck

 of cards, Margret 

returned.

X x X x X x

I decided to write a story.

But wanted to write a poem.

So I made a Stoem (like the name?)

or a story-poem. Plus I like diamonds:)