Grocery Bag

A white plastic grocery bag

still hangs in the scrawny limbs

of a winter bush. For several days

it has filled with wind and light

and acted like a jewel in all

the prairie plainness.

No one, so far, seems to be offended

by its posturing. Not enough

to pluck it from its setting

and put it in its place,

bull-dozed and buried

out of sight.

Light is the last thing

it will carry. At the wind's

insistence the bush, one day,

will let it go. It is unlikely

to be lifted, caught

and held so high again.