Litter

Life rolls along sometimes,

With task after task, and lectures piling up,

Brains bulging until they push up against skull.  

For instance, I learned that in Utah

There’s a $100 fine for littering.

In Maryland that goes to $30,000,

And in Tennessee up to 6 years behind bars.

The other day I wandered around Liberty Park.

The pond was dried up and the birds sat in puddles,

Near a milk carton alone in the creek.

It was the same kind I had drunk the day before.

And beer cans were cradled in bushes, 

Like bird eggs should have been.

It smelled like weed.

Isn’t it funny how we long to take care of wild,

To hike in it, love it, leave no trace,

Yet struggle to integrate it into our own? 

Real nature stays 

Out there.

But here punishments for littering are just a joke

In the cacophonies of city blocks,

And tall buildings of metal and concrete .

They’re man-made, artificial.

Doesn’t it look like littering too?

I didn’t see any squirrels in the park, 

Yet they run across my dumpster,

As if that was the kingdom they were born for.

That is our legacy:

The things we litter through time and history.

It’s all going to be left for our future to see.

We should take care to not let our legacy be litter,

Take care of the future like we preserve the past,

Leave no trace. Not spread like wildfire.

The geese are honking and I can’t tell you why,

But they are happy in this tired place,

With no plastic in their beaks, no metal in their faces.

I guess the crux of this is:

We should pick up after ourselves.

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Source: https://wasatchmag.com/litter/