And every day I’m called to choose

The paper or the plastic bag

To carry with me all my blues

Beliefs, convictions, waving flags

Of plastic. Sturdy, simple, strong

Yet thrown, discarded, left to die

Like plastic party masks, a face

Now frozen, gapes with hollow eyes

A never-rotting peace in space

Eternal laughter etched in place

I choose the paper trail. Again

And always. Soft and crumpled down

With gentle touch from mice and men

Yet gentle in embrace, its frown

Gives way to smiles and hearty mirth

So fragile, tears apart with tears

I fear it cannot last. Away

It folds and burns, and yet it feels

As I do, crumpled as I am

By other hands. Yet carry on

The carrying and caring


2 thoughts on “PAPER OR PLASTIC

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