by Jim Benz
After the first glass of bourbon,
sitting in the shade, smelling charcoal
turn to dust and chicken skin
to gold, the grass and weeds
don't look so tall.
Author's Note: Published in Right Hand Pointing, #22. Also published on Arthur Magazine's website, Aug 2010
Posted on 08/28/2008
Copyright © 2021 Jim Benz
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Alison McKenzie on 08/28/08 at 06:42 PM|
LOL. Great way to round out the summer!!!
|Posted by George Hoerner on 08/28/08 at 07:11 PM|
Another glass and they will stop growing all together. Have a great weekend. And after the third you won't care.
|Posted by Nancy Ames on 08/28/08 at 11:02 PM|
This a wonderful, concise piece of poetry that really captures the moment and gives it to the reader. Love it!
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/29/08 at 01:46 AM|
Sweet. This is one to just sit back and inhale.