We huddled, green, in the center, awaiting the explosion, that shattering moment to scatter us to the far corners of this world, dropping us into solitary pits of hell, clinging to rawboned walls, and when the shot was fired it was merely a scratch.
© Jilly’s 2016
Grace is tending bar over at dVerse Poets Pub. We are playing with the word "Green." Come on over and join us! https://dversepoets.com/