In the Details: Look Out

Look Out

It's nice, isn't it? The way we all can just look
Out the window and see the
Same things everyday, like that 
Same poop-filled plastic bag.
Someone scooped up with

His own hand, closed it gently,
With a sweet bow,
Carefully tying it shut. Then PLOP,
Dropped it there on the

Town grass where he can
Walk by, daily, with the dog,
To visit it, and
As it's turning winter, enjoy
Its temporary disappearance. Until

An observant robin sings
Its triumphant return-- it peeps slowly
From its snow cocoon,
Sighing into the warming sun. But,

It forgets itself in the
Luxuriant grasses of summer, 
A little bit bored now,
A bit steamed that its dog

Doesn't even sniff as it goes by now, and
No one bothers to remark on it as they 
Pass, and even I forget, till early I hear mowers
And look out: 

My old friend is torn to shreds.

--

This post is part of a the poetry series, "" -- daily poetry and photos, inspired by where we live. 

The posts for January are part of an international small stone writing project "The River of Stones."

Read more small stones on Twitter at the #smallstone hashtag. You can find me on Twitter@smallstate.