Sober Sundays
Sober Sundays
Come into the House
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Come into the House

#Prompt 113

If eyes are a window to the soul
keep them open for the days I come knocking without a key or an invitation.

tired of being a tumbleweed, I’ll follow the wind a final time

To plant my feet on the balustrade of your knees
hoisted up by your shoulders

I can look in for as long as I want and be at home.

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Sober Sundays
Sober Sundays
Every Sunday, a new poem or story by Obii
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Obii Ifejika