we drive
by old flames.
old loves, old sweethearts,
the lover's
lanes
we parked in.
the woods we walked
through.
our loves
survive, our desires
though
change,
the ocean a constant
of a rising
and
ebbing tide.
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December
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- new year resolutions
- men and women
- tell me how you really feel
- what must be done
- the square yard
- red with winter
- to unworry
- take one
- hot coffee
- the man outside
- remember the time
- home again
- how nice to have a dog
- Santa Cruise
- the stage mother
- we disagree
- quick haste
- sand pebble
- too cold to sin
- nothing left to do or say
- the apple and the tree
- thirty years later
- the spill of time
- how she rolls
- beauty within
- slow down
- all night long
- one petal
- still in touch
- our actions
- time to sleep
- don't say i'm fine
- the room where she dies
- the one night room
- lost love
- the tiled floor
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- social media quicksand
- before sleep
- surrender
- permanent liberty
- getting a complex
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- say what?
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- before it begins
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- quit whining
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- the blue light
- the sixth grade
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- a step slow
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- we make plans
- this is easy, for now
- there is bliss
- the lake
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- who makes it
- these woods
- misunderstood
- by now, at this age
- accepting tomorrow
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- slimy smelly kids
- on the train
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- let's google someone
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- rent control
- banished
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- from the north country
- on the island
- before we move on
- woman in a cake
- the hunger
- don't be happy
- regift
- the walk through
- the rabbit's foot
- where someone waits
- true lub
- the church crown
- the sunset inn
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December
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About Me
- Stephen Chute
- west springfield, virginia, United States
- these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters and are in no way representative of any real experiences in my or anyone else's life. any similarities are purely coincidental, except for the dog poems.
1 comment:
The apostrophe again, my friend. Lovers' lane --assuming there is more than one lover. Although I supposed one might venture there alone.
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