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Poem: March fourteenth


melted snow trickles
down burbling gutters
winter grime clings
to the boulevards
crumbled coffee cups
discarded indulgences
revealed on brown mud
carefully bagged dog-shit
piled where snow-banks
hid lazy intentions

I’ve never understood the point
of bothering to stoop and scoop
and casually toss into my yard –
perhaps I should be thankful
for the plastic gift wrap
keeping the fine piles of shit
confined in sanitary stasis.

Urban living is shared joy.

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2 responses

  1. Don’t you hate that? It perplexes me as to why they bag and throw? You describe the “in between” season so perfectly. Can’t wait for everything to fill in with colors again. Have a good day! Tell them to poop, scoop and carry!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. If it was one or two I’d accept the ‘oops forgot’. I live right beside a community path so the entire dog neighbourhood passes by here daily. And well let’s leave it there.

      Liked by 1 person

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