Once the sun sets over Lake Yvette the sky takes on a subdued tint, filtered through a green
Glass, vintage Coke bottle. Stillness supersedes movement in the magic time between
Day and night. No leaves rustle. No animals stir. Deep silence permeates until broken
By the trill of a lone bird. Here I am, he calls. I rule the evening. Hear my plea, oh Lord.
I try to answer him, but we speak different dialects of the same language. Hear me, I cry. Nothing more.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
My streams of thought meet here
Conceptual Photographer and Writer
Ramblings
Killer Fiction
Music and Storytelling
Besteesydian
A bit of this...A bit of that...bit of everything...come on in...
Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
Really moody. I like this!!
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Thank you!
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“…filtered through a green
Glass, vintage Coke bottle.”
is a fine fountain drink of serious free verse –
but, and a but there will always be
where the interior rhyme be ?
Regards,
a votary from Virginia
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Should’ve gone with vintage pop bottle…
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No.
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Lol.
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