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But trash


But trash

Floating on the breeze
It catches a spark
And burns to ash
A thing so fleeting
And temporary
It could never last
I scrounge up the charred remains
Press them together into glass
Form a window to peer through
Press my face against it
And watch
A world that only ever feels like it abandons me
I wait
I wait
To see
If anything is left
Or if I too
Am but trash
Floating on the breeze
Only to burn to ash

© 2021 David


John Hansen from Gondwana Land on February 28, 2021:

A rather poignant poem, David. Well-written.

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