Poetry 2000-.....

How many times I have seen that littered wrapper stuck to the pavement. Had this thought about it.

  Mental Trash


There it lay,

                  run over,

                                in the road.

I must look

At sweet fate

Stuck to tar



                    skin flutters

                                        in the breeze.

Ants gather

A happy



Apple pie,

                is no more,



    Ciera S. Louise c. March 22, 2005