Wine

She selects moments for me to write about.  All.  Each second and frame, scene and sight, move the pen she tells me.  Harsh instructor she is, but kind, watching her smile, reading her verse to me in each SB row—  I read each detail in the soil, the wires and what leaves still cling to cane.  She sets my senses in a triangularity of sane.

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mikemadigan

Writer/Blogger - bottledaux.com

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