a blue plastic bag
went rolling along the tracks
pushed along by the wind
"keep rolling..."
it told itself
keep rolling-as if
it had a choice
this wasn't a playful ballet
the blue bag being insubstantial
with no tether to tie itself down
no help forthcoming
it had to try
to hold onto itself
believe that the winds would die down
or change directives
there's nothing quite like
change
and how one day
it simply
shows up.
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 12:12PM PST 2/19/2020
TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR/WRITER
MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY REGISTED
AND COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE: MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD
