The Whisky Blot
Journal of Literature, Poetry, and Haiku
The amateurs will be out,
tossing their cherry bombs in the street while a kid with a sparkler chases a dog down the driveway. The couple at the festival, numb from sun and cocktails, holds hands while staring at the night sky. The terrier seeks shelter in the bathtub while a woman out front passes out tiny flags which we’ll wave in the air drunkenly, insanely happy we don’t have to face the boss and his usual scheme tomorrow. Meanwhile, the ghost of a British soldier limps out from nearby woods as if emerging from a dream. Bruce Gunther is a retired journalist and writer who lives in Michigan. He's a graduate of Central Michigan University. His poems have appeared in The Comstock Review, East by Northeast, Modern Haiku, the Dunes Review, and others. Comments are closed.
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