snows recede
leaving behind hidden garbage
equipment broken by winter
projects left undone when the cold came on
litter unlocking itself from the ice
the first real flowers of spring
old men with plastic bags
stalk the ditches of the county roads
they are picking up the thrown beer cans
and soggy mcdonald’s bags
on the edges of anonymous fields it remains
until the bramble covers it again
to await the next snowfall
Moores Hill
March, 2014
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