Friday, 21 October 2016

wind and rubbish


wind and rubbish

rubbish.
the things used
no one wants,
the cast-offs,
a plastic bag that
once held fruit
brightly carried
a newspaper read
thoroughly left
on a dusty park
bench they're
happy as larry
now the wind
is lifting
their spirits
they’re following
each other
up the spine of
the wind
look a torn
cement bag
not even scared
is flapping by
a twelfth floor
window,
dangling
dare-devil,
the plastic wrap
that once bound
tight 48 packets
of instant noodles
is bounding now
along the path
like a beach ball
the little boy
who felt bad
in his room
his imagination unable
to fire any of his toys
this morning
is out there too
and feels he's flying
in the middle of it all.
later when the wind
is gone down, tucked
away in some shadow
the wrapper the torn
cement bag the draped
paper the plastic bag
lie still yet
you know
they're slyly
smiling.

may 2011
beijing

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