Down In The Dumps

We met last year at the municipal dump
among a collection of recycling bins.
I had an old mower and a bicycle pump,
she had newspapers, bottles and tins.

We gradually increased our trips to the tip;
not just routinely, it was almost a ritual.
It was a weak moment when I let it slip
that I fancied her. She said it was mutual.

There followed a period of perfect bliss
when no wrong words crossed our lips,
no disagreements and nought was amiss
and we behaved like a couple of drips.

Yet good things must come to an end.
Ironic though that on this very dump
she made her mind up I wasn’t a friend
and promptly ditched this hapless chump.

© Luigi Pagano 2010