Oh Where

By Mary E. Adair

Oh, Where does all the trash come from
That blows down the street, rat, tatty-tum

That piles up against the fences and walls

And when the doors open blows into the halls.

There are gum wrappers, circulars, bits of foil
And some are tarnished with dirt and oil
There are plastic bags that sail like a kite
And cans that tumble when the wind shows its might

The old newspapers left out on some lawn
By a paper thrower who came round at dawn
Are blown into bits and completely scattered
The news once reported now definitely tattered

I fear the trash represents our worst traits
Buying things just to toss into the grates
Letting go of whatever without even a glance
Once bought perhaps someone's beauty to enhance

Well, it doesn't beautify the path it now takes
When the wind rips off lids, and the trashcan shakes
Then over it rolls, and debris flies to the sky
Dead leaves, fireplace ashes, vegetable parings awry

And due to our advances making plastic so strong
It may last forever, at least for very long,
Leading some historian far in the future to ponder
If we really thought our bread was a wonder.

©2009 Mary E. Adair