Morning Wine

Morning Wine

Looking for abuse,

in a foggy

summer sun,

watching the paint

peal off

well worn walls,

she walks carefully

down the street,

for milk.

 

There in a hole

in her pocket,

she keeps secrets,

in a billfold

of rubber bands.

 

And that she wants

to pay the man

a fortune,

and never

look back.

 

She walks over nervously.

 

But in the background,

she is

no willing participant,

and only glows

in clouded skies.

 

Wishing to turn cold milk,

into warm wine.

Reviews

[M O R P H I N E]

I think that this is a beautiful write.
The words are just dancing so perfectly with each other.
Thank you for sharing.

[Emily B]

I was caught up in the way the words travelled. That last line really floored me. I think there must be a sisterhood of girls somewhere who wish to turn cold milk into warm wine, I wonder how we get there from here.

[Snuggles McClintock]

you do a very good job of mixing obscure with direct emotion.
There is a lyrical (dare a I gasp, poetic) tone to this piece, but your third stanza seems out of place because it's tone doesn't match the rest of it.

still, this is well written. thanks for sharing!!

[UponATyme]

There's an underlying secret here. The reader can sense it without being totally confused by it. I enjoyed this poem. I would even consider expanding on it if I were you.

[Hyori]

Wow this is really good! Keep up the good work!