Tuesday, July 5, 2016

the pram



the pram

he pushes a pram slowly,
deliberately, thoughtfully
along the river’s edge path.

salt air, divine nectar kisses his face.

deftly he plucks up rubbish
plastic bottles
plastic bags
plastic “stuff”,
stuffing them in the pram,
a desperate effort to turn the tide
to clean the filth of human thoughtlessness.

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