The Day After

Jan Richardson

Jan Richardson

It is the day after
the feast of consumption
The earth’s floor is littered
with the wrappings and tinsel
discarded by grown`up children
who spoiled`rotten as we are
break the new`found toys
Santa provided for us
for being so ‘good’

Down on the beach
every wave bears with it
detritus of our celebrations
empty plastic bottles and sacks
bar`codes receipts still attached
until the next big storm comes
to wash them all out again
push them out to merge
in the ocean gyres

In the mountains
the hill`tops removed
and the vast coal`pits left
to fill with foul water pools
to leach out into valley basins
of toxins killing every plant
Bilious bile the acceptable
cost for cheap energy
without a tomorrow

We pray for snow
that pure innocent white
comfort that covers our sins
Makes our environment appear
pristine once again in long slopes
down which we can glide on our
graphite`chemical`waxed skis
And the snow when it comes
falls gray with ash


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The Day After

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.