Wave On

January 05, 1995|By William Amelia

Like tattered flags

flying from a broken fort,

or faded pennants

on a forgotten ship,

the banners of the plastic age

surround us, windblown,

clinging to winter's trees,

now like bare masts

displaying the shredded images

of common household trademarks

in yellows, blues and whites

but mostly blues,

logo'd polymers beyond recycling,

torn, grimed, but lifting in the wind

filling, flying, waving

forever, for all I know.

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