When I drink…

by on January 24, 2023 :: 0 comments

When I drink freezing cold water
from the Britta in the fridge, I sit on the edge
of the Pennypack, trailing
my fingers in the water, clouds
swirling overhead as if coming
down to earth to greet their little
mermaid, fishtail iridescent
eyes green as the sea foam.

editors note:

You can’t buy THAT in a bottle at your local bodega! – mh clay

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