Using My Road As a Dump Site
It is Good Friday, fourteen years ago.
I decide to go to the bottom of our hill and clean up the trash.
some marvelous person dumped three months earlier.
Wild animals have dragged the stuff around; it is a real mess now.
I get it all cleaned up, it takes me eight hours.
The next day somebody has tossed out twenty-tires and three couches.
This is my road people; and it is beautiful when it is natural.
It is the beginning of a trash pile now thanks to unthinking idiots.
This is maddening.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment