It's Still Life

Rooted in Density

He misread erratic
for erotic. He read on
and on, told himself,
“just wait for it – wait for it”
but erotic never came,
and now he stands
over those grapevines,
waiting for them
to grow him some wine.
“just wait for it – wait for it”
he whines. Next he’ll be
weatherproofing clouds
because that’s what he does –
he just waits for it.

written for Twiglet #16 “those grapevines”. This took on its own direction. I was originally thinking of Napa Valley when I wrote “those grapevines”, but this ended up in a place far, far away. New Twiglets are posted every Tuesday at The Twiglets. Join us for a bit of no-pressure fun.