taste of a wild

the plastic bouquet of flowers i see in the trash, and leave there

light, the color of beach sand, that glows orange and pink at around four thirty in the afternoon

the taste of a wild rose hip, something like watermelon candy mixed with lemon and the smell of petals that lands on my tongue as i suck out the flavor from the tiny fruit as i’m walking home along the river.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s