Sunday, August 9, 2020

in the abstract

the bottle of champagne
is half empty.
it sits
on the counter
warm and still,
no cheers
are left.
no promise or vows
or toasts being made.
all done.
the sunlight streams through
the green glass
and lies upon the floor
in a soft
puddle of moss, a piece of art
in the abstract of an evening
gone.

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