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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Thursday, April 12, 2018
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that new car smell
the flea market
this does
more than the game
put it to bed
rose colored glasses
getting out
the oil painting
nearly every year
six months since your last visit
i smell what's cooking
the empty house
the circus 1962
don't touch
the green
yesterdays news
then rise
falling fast
ironing
the end of life
about tomorrow
it's about to rain
so they say
enough about me
quiet bird
it's only monday
no land in sight
the light
i don't know
some days you need a friend
bring water
an angel appears
the suggestion box
ghosts
benign neoplasm
mercy
a place to grow old in
dry land
our plans
true life
friends fade
the photo
the red ball
the nesting
baked love
No title
the burning
a higher power
red roses
tomorrow is a long ways away
so many birds
before dusk
the fear
the fence
around we go
smudges
the old sailor
just tired of war
seconds are hours
the yellow bird
away from it all
diving for pearls
start again
hands together
why go there
the silvered night
angels
the missing piece
he's arrived
the tall oak trees
to wait. be brave
sleep come upon me
the onion in hand
the train is off the tracks
the tilted stones
like Amelia
through the glass darkly
on the same page
under my skin
the long walk
what can't be seen
what i hear
let the world go
the weight
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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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