a short trip

off intended path
chasing dreams
away from prying eyes

moon the only witness
vows and promises
written in the sand

(wiped away when morning comes)

some roads stretch all the way
to their destination
others last but for a season


For January Writing Prompts, ‘moonlit excursions’.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved


when she stops giving a sh*t

She sets off with yesteryears in her pocket
they laugh at her choice of path

Isn’t it the destination that matters?
she wonders

Of course not, you silly,
they snort
the journey is key

Time passes and she embarks
on a carefully-charted route
they laugh at her choice of destination

Doesn’t the journey matter?
she ponders

Of course not, you fool,
they snort
we only want results

To hell with all of you, she says,
as she picks her next dream
and carves her own way
to get there.


© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved

the wrong train

He wondered why the view out the window
was not how he remembered it
the last time he was on the same journey

The couple in front of him
looked familiar, though this time
they had a strangely empty stroller
blocking the aisle
no baby in sight
(the conductor did not seem to care)

They seemed to be going a million miles per minute
but not getting anywhere
and the whole thing felt like a dream

He started to suspect
he boarded the wrong freakin’ train.


© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved