There’s a discarded blue mask
Blocking the gutter,
An abandoned rubber glove
On the fire escape stair,
The new toxic litter,
Sign of our times,
Strewn randomly everywhere,
There’s talk of bears
In the woods,
Strange shadows
Exiting in haste,
Leaving a trail of soiled paper,
And smelly piles
Of hazardous waste,
Is this how we go
Back to nature,
Our environment to defile?
And have we become thoughtless
Human bears,
Returning to dump in the wild?
Diane Scantlebury
