Blackberry Wine Specials

A scent – of summer,
of wild spinach or shale dust
and stagnant water –
rose briefly from the damp ground.

In the duffel bag at his side,
the Specials lolled and gurgled
with the train’s movement,
and inside,
the sediment of past summers
like crimson slurry.

The Specials moved imperceptively,
shifting, snuggling,
rubbing up against each other
like sleeping cats,

This is similar to a cento poem, but instead of using lines of poetry, you use lines of prose from a novel you like.  The prompt came from We Write Poems: Finding Pearls.  I used lines from Joanne Harris’ book “Blackberry Wine.”


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