the story teller

the story teller
in his beard
and crooked
hat upon a shaggy
head of grey
hair, holds
a light as he
walks his
fares down
the narrow streets
of cobblestone
and wet alleys.
his thin ghost
stories, recieve
no oohs, or ahhs,
just pleasant nods,
and smiles,
while the bored
children stare
at their sneakered
feet.
the world is
different now.
we've seen too
much.