An internal monologue … Ahh, my annual tradition of an evening stroll through Central Park Oops, watch that puddle. Oh, how I do wish that Mary would walk with us on these beautiful nights, through the park, but I guess the chill in this night air is simply too cold for her old bones nowadays. So it’s just you and…
Tag: #writingprompt
As day becomes night …
As day becomes night, The cars go zooming by As day becomes night, My sight becomes weak As day becomes night, The bugs begin to fly As day becomes night, My skin seems to age As day becomes night, The sky turns a-blaze As day becomes night, My memories of you fade As day becomes night, The crickets chirp a…