She
She spoke as the wind blew
Her words more blurry
With every pint of brew
The night would soon see to
What becomes of us
After three brew
The palms rustled
At the breeze off the sea
And there walked the one of us
For there was no she
© October 1, 2012,
Robbie Pruitt
This poem, She,
was originally submitted to the October Beer and Wine poetry prompt on Tweetspeak
Poetry here. While it as not chosen, it
got a mention here as “stiff competition.” I was very honored just to have
written alongside of my friend Glynn Young and all the other wonderful
poets on Tweetspeak. Glynn’s poem Art Form, With Beer was the best overall. You can see
Glynn’s poetry and his winning poem on his website Faith,
Fiction, Friends here.
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