An empty wine bottle makes love
to a rose, even if you don’t remember
where the flower came from
or how the wine stained another night,
leaving your yearning for love desperate,
like someone who overthinks
making their bed
as a way to smother their loneliness,
while strangers at a bus stop haunt
tomorrow, believing more in silence
than where a nervous hello
might take them.
Richard LeDue (he/him) lives in Norway House, Manitoba, Canada. He has been published both online and in print. He is the author of ten books of poetry. His latest book, “Sometimes, It Isn’t Much,” was released from Alien Buddha Press in February 2024.