A squawking skein of geese
scribbles an arrow overhead,
uniting in mid-
flight. In formation, mass
migration lassoes forces
unseen with collective
instinct. As each falls
in line, the deafening
chaos swells. Momentum
gains, I exclaim
pointing a startled finger.
My children notice.


Tied to their poles, the fabric
of our nation whipped
by angry gusts waves
in front of their school.
Who decides how
high it’s raised?
Each day suffers
another mourning;
today (again)
it hangs exhausted
at half-staff. Too young,
my kids don’t know
the code. I choke
on stifled sobs
and drive us home.


Beneath looming power-
lines I walk alone,
recharging. Erased
of color, the empty sky
highlights unnatural
hues strewn across shared
space: the litter of leftovers,
empty containers, willing
sacrifices offered
to a capricious god
of consumption.

Absent is sanguine
sunlight drowning
retinas in illusion, shrinking
trash to aberration,
burying sins deep
in tangled woods outside
our field of vision.


Rubbish resisting
decomposition, awaiting
recognition, begs for someone
to say


I bend,
pick up and carry
as much junk
as I can hold.


2 thoughts on “enough

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s