Adeline

The drive along the South Branch Road was dicey
the sky was gone the sun had long since set
and snowbanks at the edge were grey and icy
the woods were black as ink you can’t forget

The letter told a sad familiar story
the words were cold as daggers in a spine
his fist still gripped the page that said “I’m sorry
and I will always love you, Adeline.”

The motor roared the car was fairly flying
but underneath his heart raced twice as fast

[Want to write a few more lines? Give it a shot as a comment]

About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
This entry was posted in experiment, Poetry, scapes, snow and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Adeline

  1. danae mccarroll says:

    Hmm, that’s fun….

    for could it be his darling had been prying
    and bared an unshared secret from his past?

    (suspicious mind here)

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