Ditched Bottles

A poem by Steve Benson.

By

Ditched Bottles

Wind hums across
chipped glass lips
thrown through
scratchy hoops
of wild berries
near deer paths
that veer back
into a valley
where every May
the same apple tree
throws its white bouquet.

Share this story:

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...