As we strolled by the A52,
Laziness cattle-prodded
By pantry gaps,
One of the children stopped running
Too far ahead or lagging too far behind
And walked with me for ten yards,
Remarking on the litter nesting in the verge.
I mumbled from my scarf about
Dirty, lazy people.
Then it hit me:
What if it was the same person?
Horrified, eyes slitted and darting,
I told the kids to be alert for someone
Coffee and chocolate stained,
Hopping along in one black boot,
Crisp-flecked, smelling of beer,
Mouth full of burger, wearing one glove,
Carrying half a newspaper,
And walking a very large dog.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's not so much What others throw away As what some will pick up And nature degrades. All that remains to see Is the detris remaining. Sherlock and Watson May be fooled. Is it deductive reasoning Or inductive? To build the character Of the one or ones That went before. It could have been a tiger That ate someone And all that remains Is what hasn't been Spread by the wind. s