Recyclers

by Carol Rogers

caroge@live.co.uk

 

This giant, man-made treasure island

fills up, all day long, with gems by

the rusty cluster. All day; the fresh

descendings, the great comings and goings,

the sortings and the throwings, arriving

by the car load, the van load, the trailer-

on-the-back load; destination Dump.

 

Such gold in the eyes of the recyclers;

the broken-down-blitzers; the 'I'm sure it

will fit, sirs'; the soon-have-it-fixed

and working like new-sters. The sticking-

plaster-glue-sters. The hopeless-lost-

causers. The waste-not-wanters. Visionary

dreamers; Don Quixotes de la Junk.

 

©2008 Carol Rogers

Carol would love to hear what you think of her poem - email her now

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