Bin Day
By Bee
- 5463 reads
Thursday is bin day
I hear the early drums announce
collection and wonder
how many more...
only the beginning
of the great unknown
advancing into my brain
like a slow train of recognition.
How many springs will bluster,
blossoming in and out;
yellow daffs fading
in otherwise empty beds
before Summer spreads
her glorious gown
across the warming earth,
and Autumn sheds
her golden robe;
till Winter saunters in for me,
cold? Seems important to know
The drums are distancing -
for now... Another Thursday
I should throw
these ugly thoughts away;
questions, unanswerable
as yet, chucked out
like discarded living.
The no longer wanted,
not needed,
unused,
uneaten,
wasted.
This is rubbish.
- Log in to post comments
Comments
they do sound just like drums
they do sound just like drums don't they!
- Log in to post comments
Clear the rubbish, but fill
Clear the rubbish, but fill in with hope instead - for the world of no rubbish, pain, disaster … Rhiannon
- Log in to post comments
The bluntness of the title
The bluntness of the title flows through the peice. Loved it!
- Log in to post comments
You are right, chuck out
You are right, chuck out those ugly thoughts, somehow they seem to cling on. Yet another wonderful poem.
- Log in to post comments
We putrefy our thoughts
We putrefy our thoughts sometimes - particularly anxious ones that are unresolvable immediately. Your bins echo this brain junk and as the season turns a full scenic cycle, there's a deep sense of unrest in the squalor. Beautifully conveyed.
- Log in to post comments
Wonderful, Bee...anything but
Wonderful, Bee...anything but a load of old rubbish.
Cherries richly deserved.
Tina
- Log in to post comments
Hi Bee
Hi Bee
Another beautiful and meaningful poem - with advice for us all to value what is important in our lives.
Jean
- Log in to post comments
This is our Facebook and
This is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day!
Get a great reading recommendation every day
- Log in to post comments
not rubbish at all. Musing on
not rubbish at all. Musing on what it is to be on a day, among others, when everything slips away.
- Log in to post comments