Author Archives: Matt Tooley

Where old meets new is where I fell. But that is no where to remain. Still…

She asked me not to forget. Maybe it’s me who should have been asking.

A low, red sun was there before me as I left. And as I returned.

How can one sky hold so many hues, one heart so much saturation?

An old barn, gray streaks showing, backdrops an orange road sign: END CONSTRUCTION.

To have and to hold: Only as long as they both shall give. No longer.

Friendship: a surprise peanut butter milkshake that arrives mid-workload.