James A. Pharis, Jr. Copyright © 1999, James A. Pharis, Jr.
< Last Modified: November 1, 2001
- It was a torn garbage bag on the parking lot;
- Not noticed nor respected in the trash.
- It came to my attention today
- As it soared aloft with a puff of wind.
- I stood there and watched as it lifted high,
- With grace and beauty all its own.
- That bit of plastic refuse that has lost its use
- Became a lovely presence in the wind.
- My eye followed it as it descended and
- Skipped across the pavement in different form.
- Then it rose again and for a moment of delight
- Became a soaring, changing, lifted spirit.
- Once again it fell, no longer to rise.
- It became trash again despite the wind.
- No more a spirit on the wing
- This bit of plastic ceased to be.
- Not like man who rises above the mire;
- Not like one whose spirit is ever changed;
- Not like one once lifted from the depths,
- And soars forever in a new frame.
- James A. Pharis, Jr.
- November 30, 1999, Tuesday 11:00 p. m.