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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Wednesday, December 27, 2017
the apple and the tree
the apple,
now bitter,
does not
fall too far
from the tree,
but there are
two trees
and one wins out
unfortunately,
planting herself
again,
nearby.
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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
purging
the answer
social media quicksand
before sleep
surrender
permanent liberty
getting a complex
the go to analysis
sit up straight
say what?
daily devotions
imperfections
postcard from LA
early morning dmv
gazelles
to be broken
the hidden genius
no need for pockets
before it begins
i'll get us there
double bubble
some weather we've been having
quit whining
she would knit
the blue light
the sixth grade
it felt like home
a step slow
new words for the old machine
wiser than yesterday
we make plans
this is easy, for now
there is bliss
the lake
the morning light
who makes it
these woods
misunderstood
by now, at this age
accepting tomorrow
the news will come
slimy smelly kids
on the train
doing their job
easy and slow
let's google someone
who wants to read their poems?
rent control
banished
cat world
the plateau of age
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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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.
View my complete profile
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