Bottle Tree

Hung
On dirty white strings
Dyed bottles
Swinging
In the breeze
 .
Among them
Ocean turquoise
Is ever present
The sin
Most bottles are hung for
Stuck in dark glass
 .
Captured memories
Swing on branches
Hitting each other
Mixing glass hues
Into dappled shades
.
Under the tree
Trying to forget them
As the sun
Shines through
Each day
Showing colored lights
Reminding me
Not to try to do it
Again

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