• A plastic bag sways in the wind,
    Like a glorious glistening sin,
    It feels like life,
    It feels like death,
    It feels like awareness of self,
    But just trash is it,
    Nothing more does it fit,
    And still it dances.
    A plastic bag sways in the wind,
    Like a bird who has fallen,
    But just some trash,
    some man trashed
    Out of his window fast.
    By a bus he is hit,
    What else to be fit
    And still it dances.