A poem of mine Bottle Bank Therapy was published in the Waxed Lemon. I am delighted with that and look forward to reading the journal.
Bottle Bank Therapy
On the first day of ease from the lockdown,
I bring a box full of bottles, green, brown, clear
and blue. They shine in the sun. Glass shards litter the ground.
I pick my way carefully to the bank and select a bottle.
The neck is smooth. I lob it down the hole,
listen to the cacophony of the breaking,
a joyous crashing sound, the way the glass clinks
through glass, makes the sound of rain. It is heaven
to me as I let go and keep letting go and think how will
we gather our smashed selves into a new whole.