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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Wednesday, September 26, 2018
the empty house
the empty house
sighs.
it breathes in then out.
it's
almost alive.
the wind of time.
the laughter.
the tears.
all still here.
somewhere.
and love too.
both yours and mine.
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they need us now
small things
to paraguay
fixing things
for now
twenty minutes
the empty house
inspecting the attic
reminders
wrestling with God
the white sale
so many miles
eat cake
candle burning
give me what i want God
the thorn
at the sand pit
who will get the mail
waiting on a train
click click click
slave labor
the deep cushions
a familiar dream
easy prey
fine old wines
true love
therapy
the empty seat
writing in the sky
her cold cold heart
the unknown
imperfect
clay
the fig wound
blue hair
before going home
the disappearing
sunrise sunset
the new suit
purging
photo albums
evacuate
friendship
happy pie
the spill of time
take a number
an eight mile drive
suburban dream
a place to be
in white
the cold black numbers
sweet dreams
marked yours
lines in the sand
the indigo sky
lost souls
home at last
how they laugh now
the wind of sea
sweet day
the mouse
smoke and mirrors
the truth this time
i can do that
another turn
all is well
side of a cliff
the dead horse
sticky fear
it isn't you
down the road
you get used to it
going fast
the owners
summers end
the good neighbor
on the side of the road
bring beer
this desert
she made it right
off the beaten path for a few minutes
an air brushed world
the new shirt
the green light
what i want
on his knees
what a summer it's been
the light ahead
Inside
on ice
it'll be fun
the strange enormous night
on the gurney
courage
love and plants
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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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