Cool morning.
Trash trucks,
a day late
from the holiday.
A second chance
(shining) amid
lost opportunities,
beautiful as the
mound we saw
tumbling hills
cascading mounds
of coke cans and
plastic bottles, glinting
glistening in the sun
at the dump.
(the recycling center)
The day’s mountain range.
Sand and wasteful
and filled with hope
none the less.
A kind of Pyrenes
of our lives
or hope all the
more necessary
because of the
sad waste.
Cans and plastic,
okay, we drank
It is the paper
that (holds the weight)
bears the burden
of still born dreams.
Shredded to be safe.
Newspapers. Magazines.
Moldy books,
notes and files and mementos
left in boxes too long,
love letters longing
for a second chance.