Wednesday, August 19, 2015

What's ours; a new rock

what's ours
isn't really ours …
we stare at plans
for a bullet train
through the neighborhood

a new rock, 
plastiglomerate *
litters the shore—
will the words I leave behind
also survive the seas?

* melted plastic trash mixed with beach sediment and debris
both of these—red lights, June 2015

6 comments:

  1. Brilliant.

    It's sad what humans leave behind.

    ReplyDelete
  2. An excellent pairing of poems, both thoughtful reflections on our impact on the world . . .and its impact on us.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I enjoyed these two different - but harmonious - personal "takes" on the unfolding modernity. There always seems to be several sides to it.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Nothing is constant, except death and taxes. The changes that come are not always for the better. Two well expressed poems.

    Adelaide

    ReplyDelete