Grocery Bag
A white plastic grocery bag
still hangs in the scrawny limbs
of a winter bush. For several days
it has filled with wind and light
and acted like a jewel in all
the prairie plainness.
No one, so far, seems to be offended
by its posturing. Not enough
to pluck it from its setting
and put it in its place,
bull-dozed and buried
out of sight.
Light is the last thing
it will carry. At the wind's
insistence the bush, one day,
will let it go. It is unlikely
to be lifted, caught
and held so high again.
