chester maynes


I taste your spinach on a Sunday noon

Killing the thought of a sad note letter

It is hurting at our last rocking moon

You tell me of some difficult weather


I am trying this unusual drop of tears

How calm, how sober, how quiet I am

To cover from and away your years

When at a prior sunset you’re gone


Gone as a swift, swift air of tonight

Tomorrow my sunrise at ease

I make some teasing at summer’s bright

Taunting like our first of yesterday’s feast


I motion at a drive of super gear

Leaving an open door for another dear


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About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
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