Tags : Afternoon

My Snowy Day Poem~

My Snowy Day Poem~

A Poem by NoneOfYourBusiness akaKIT..


~a poem with a lot of bad language~
Transformation

Transformation

A Poem by Nothing Personal


A glance into my own life..
An afternoon affair

An afternoon affair

A Poem by Juan de Rajah


One afternoon, upon my bed, the wind blew… so ever gently. White curtains swaying like a girl toys her hair, my face she’s kissin..
We Build Shells

We Build Shells

A Chapter by Abdul Batin Osman Bey


My first winter in Worcester
See, Ey, Tea: Cat

See, Ey, Tea: Cat

A Story by YouoweYoupay


I was not afraid, because friends should trust one another.
THAT MUCH EASIER.

THAT MUCH EASIER.

A Poem by Terry Collett


A YOUNG MAN AND OLDER WOMAN TRYING TO MAKE OUT.
SOMETHING OTHER FOR SURE.

SOMETHING OTHER FOR SURE.

A Poem by Terry Collett


A YOUNG MAN AND HIS MIDDLE-AGED LOVER AND HER FRIEND.
An Evening

An Evening

A Poem by abluehorseandflowers


The first of three Titled "A Day"
An Afternoon

An Afternoon

A Poem by abluehorseandflowers


Third of three titled "A Day"
A Country Moment

A Country Moment

A Story by elm321


A moment in the countryside, in second person.
AFTER SUNDAY LUNCH.

AFTER SUNDAY LUNCH.

A Poem by Terry Collett


A MAN IN DEEP THOUGHT ONE SUNDAY AFTER LUNCH IN THE 1970S
How cool!

How cool!

A Poem by Robert Ronnow


How cool!this early summer eveningafter a day so oppressiveeven we New Yorkers move painstakingly.The breeze in sumac treesso why am I not more conten..
The Writer Working Hard

The Writer Working Hard

A Poem by Robert Ronnow


This morning I put the apostrophe inand this afternoon I took it out.Oscar Wilde's comic witabout the writer working hard.Revision has lately become t..
Dendrology

Dendrology

A Poem by Robert Ronnow


Surveyingnorthern autumn afternoonPitcherelli, ex-marine, body-builder,Lussier, long-haired father of three dark-skinned childrenand myself, sharp-edg..
Golden Rose

Golden Rose

A Poem by bemycoffee


We're born in the morning,we die in the evening,and during the afternoon,we unravel the day.
That Day...

That Day...

A Story by Helen Crutchett


(MORNING) Day knocked heavily on my slowly waking senses that morning. The sun seemed more glaringly yellow and as stifling oppressive as a sauna. ..

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