May 5
Garbage by the wayside…
What is wrong with this town
this city, this nation?
Who are the ones
that fling/drop/scatter it there?
Are they self-aware?
Do they have worth?
Ugly artifacts stare up at me
from the gutter.
I read ripped labels,
avoiding shattered glass.
Bags blow past.
Spring doesn’t care,
flowering in and through the trash.
Dead animal carcass, pierced
By brilliant green weeds . . .
The Lord is He is to whom we are accountable
and He reigns in sovereign omnipotence.
What is wrong with this town
this city, this nation?
Who are the ones
that fling/drop/scatter it there?
Are they self-aware?
Do they have worth?
Ugly artifacts stare up at me
from the gutter.
I read ripped labels,
avoiding shattered glass.
Bags blow past.
Spring doesn’t care,
flowering in and through the trash.
Dead animal carcass, pierced
By brilliant green weeds . . .
The Lord is He is to whom we are accountable
and He reigns in sovereign omnipotence.
PROMPT #15:
write a poem in which you closely describe
an object or place,
and then end with a more abstract line
that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do
with that object or place,
but which, of course, really does.
write a poem in which you closely describe
an object or place,
and then end with a more abstract line
that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do
with that object or place,
but which, of course, really does.
