Monday, February 1, 2016

Litter (#Poetry Monday*)
Evening in the backyard,
in the half dark,
an empty white bag jerks
like a small animal
along the fence on
the neighbor’s side, a ghost
of someone’s past shopping spree.

With each gust of warm air
it strains nearer to the spot
where the groundhog
comes through.

The bag is stymied and stuck
as it expands and contracts
with the breathing of the wind,
ebbing and flowing.

Until in the morning,
there it is,
on the other side of the fence,
on the opposite side of our yard!


Perhaps the groundhog came along
and gave it a boost?
Perhaps the neighbor tossed it rudely
across the fence?
Perhaps the wind shifted
to lift instead of merely inflate?

Perhaps the bag
       for one moment
              did come alive!


But there it goes again!

Gone. With the wind,
sailing white and full
against the now bright blue
morning sky.


* Its PoMo! To learn about PoMo (POetry MOnday), click here. 

When you see a bag flying around in a yard or on the street, does it seem like it is alive? Yes? No? If not, does it seem like anything other than an empty bag? What does this poem say to you? Anything? Share your thoughts and experiences in the comments!

This poem is included in this collection:

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