The Woods

By Jean Paul Mazlymian

Empty glass bottles

 And cans

Scattered across the grass

And the grey folding tables

Lights strung above

Shining many colours

And a tarp

to stop the rain

He held the bottle

as tightly as he could.

It rose and fell,

Emptier

then it had been before.

He shuddered

from the bitterness

and knelt by the wall.

He watched

People stumbling 

Aimlessly wandering

The blonde with a cigarette

Smiling and clutching

A bottle

In her right hand

People danced together

And listened

to the

loud

music

He saw

Two people walk

into a room together

while

others went into their cars

and in the woods

He went into

The woods too

Away from the crowd

Past the birches

And the oaks

He found a place

To rest

The ground

 beneath him

was cold

and harsh.

The light crept away.

The stars

 drowned out

by the silhouettes

of swaying trees.

Copyright© 2020 by Jean Paul Mazlymian

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