Gerry Thibeault
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aspiring poet working on his first chapbook of poetry...
Stories (65)
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Headlights Dim in the Distance
Out the window, in the distance, I watch the headlights of a car fade. A sliver of moon glared through a sliver in the drapes, penetrating my early morning eye. There was wood or maybe I just had to pee. It was gone as quickly as it had arrived, pulling soft light out of a distant morn. I could roll over for comfort like I used to, comfort was there, but not as willing as she once was, besides the Black Lab between us claimed a big stake in it. Most people tell me they prefer buttons on the dash of their car opposed to the hard edge of a computerized flush screen in modern cars. I like ease, the cleanliness screens clean lines have to offer —but I still believe a car should have round headlights, it’s just the era my love comes from.
By Gerry Thibeault11 days ago in Poets
