Ticklish

And as I lay here
in this bed
I found myself
in another place
Where both you and I
were together, happy
as can be
Living in a warm
cozy-home near the sea

There were children playing there
About two or so
Boy and a girl
I was such a proud father

But when I awoke
from this coma
only my mother was
standing by my side
Old, tired, and withering

waiting patiently to remind us
of how I first came to play
notes, measures, and melodies
that once moved audiences
Never making mention
of my wife or kids or
that old enchanted house
by the sea

So I decided not to ask
It may be for the best
My memories like scars
tickle as they scratch!


Fiction Collection 2009
©Bobby Ruelas