“hung from pegs”

Written for:  The Twiglets #209 - "hung from pegs"

The coat hung askew
on a peg.

Aging yellowed photographs
pegged to a wall

backpack hung by strap
heaviness putting a strain
on the wooden peg

            He was a braggart through and through
              purchased only items brand new
                   A wine was touted
                  He knew all about it
     Guests sipped, deemed it sour; took him down a peg or two.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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7 Responses to “hung from pegs”

  1. Misky says:

    A perfect Limerick for an uppity connoisseur! 😁


  2. Every peg a clever hook.


  3. Jules says:

    Enjoyed every verse. 😀

    Check your email I’ve sent you the rest of the series. 😀
    I finished it today.


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