Cara Panini
Human Junk The trees hold, with silent grace, Memories and plastic bags used once. Fabric is torn and displaced, Our river once pure and transparent. Brown and muddy, flowing still Boards and bricks disturb the calm— Joys of youth lost in landfill, A trolley idle, a teenagers ' fun.
Beneath the browning leaves, find Containers lost, without their lids. Pieces in bloated bellies of birds, Caught in wings, unable to escape. Benches are built, signs stay for long, Standing still, though dirt turned them old. Graffiti marks them, with slurs and wrong, A tale of time that twigs hold.
Tyres and boxes sit by the shore, Where sand once lay, erodes away, A hill becomes the dumping floor, Of fridges, bikes, and broken plates. A hosepipe tied, around a duck’ s neck. Yet Nature clings with sorrowed wreck, Desperate to untie the creature free.
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