Something deep inside us
demands the unities.
I've found a grotto, winding back
behind a public park,
mossgrown sidewalk curving
along an ivy-covered, wooded creek.
For all I know,
this could be virgin jungle.
My mind begins to quiet down,
to come in for a landing
until a plastic bag,
a strip of cellophane, and a section
of newspaper, strewn along a hollow
slam me back.
They don't belong,
they don't belong!
Hell, I can relate to this. Actually my blood is boiling just thinking about it, litter getting strewn about in quiet, be-yourself, serene places. You however put it calmly and engagingly. Maybe that is the trick... you put it quietly, the reader has his or her own emotions. And he or she can't fail to have his or her own emotions. t x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very skillfully executed poem there. Superlative message and smoothly crafted, to boot. Good work.