the street
should be beautiful
lined with trees
the color of embers
as the fall season
settles
in fits
across the land

it should be
as the sun peeks
through heavy gray clouds
to give
the briefest sign
that it isn’t all
bitter winds
and even more
bitter memories
of holidaze
to come

if you could ignore
the mounds of trash
that flit and dance
in the wake
of the angry drivers
speeding
with no second thought
to the world
around them
so caught up
in the detritus
of their own worries

i can’t help think
this street
should be beautiful
yet
i can’t stop thinking
of woes
my mind flipping
from thought
to thought
like the plastic bag
zipping
under and above
the cars
around me