A word on bins – you know those things
In which you put old scraps
And baked bean tins and chicken wings
Leftovers in cling wraps.
There’s the apple core, peelings galore
Or empty cereal box
Dust from brushes, dried flower rushes
Used tissues, waste from dogs!
Think of the heat, the windy street
And relentless sea-blown breezes
Which buffet the bin, give it a spin
And spread nasty diseases!
New year, new deal, I make appeal
That you throw out with care
Put lids on tight, wrap scraps up right
So the fox stays in his lair!
(written in 2009)
(c) Poet in the woods 2014