Here is my very own poetry prompt at the Wordsmith Studio site this week: click.
Don’t I love red wine? My father was a master wine-maker and vine-grower… Don’t I crave the memories of our vine-yard, that was home for so many happy days and nights of my childhood?

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Red wine
to make me dizzy
stumbling over
my moments to share
where
I see the grains of black pepper
and hate them
for being black
for being round
for being spicy
(I prefer it ground)
Red wine
to make me remember
what I begged to forget
and stumble across
the headache I get.
© 2013, soul mary