According to their colour,
they ask that the various
glass bottles and jars
be put into different bins;
painted white, or green, or brown,
so they can be carted away
separately, and not mix
their contents.
I suppose the furnace heat
burns up everything,
except the basic material,
and then, phoenix-like,
from flaming white-hot globs,
the new bottles are formed;
white for milk, green for wine,
and brown for beer.
A contest entry
- Poetry Contest by Don Michael.
1050 points, ended February 22, 27 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Short and simple, and easy to read. Well done; I sure
could use one of them brown bottles filled to the brim.
-
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Eric
Thankyou for your complimentary comments.
Best wishes from 'down-under'.
Shenton
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