“Don’t throw your muck in my backyard
My backyard, my backyard
Don’t throw your muck in my backyard
My backyard’s full!”
(Folk song)
Steel toed, standing at the tip,
A steady stream of garbage slips,
Out of mind, out of sight,
Forgotten to our mothers plight.
Sneaky humans disguise their toxins,
Paint tins and consumer sins,
Just tossed,
Beside the ancient riverside, to reside,
For generations,
Leaching into the future,
When “My backyards full!”
About the Author
Helen retired from the Personal Training industry a few years ago. Her public writing has been mostly technical, teaching people how to exercise, “safely”, she wrote an exercise column for the Express News in 2006. Her poetry and essay writing has been a private endeavour until she enrolled into the Creative Writing program at Selkirk College. Helen is thankful she can dispel some of her “climate anxiety” and planetary consumption fears into poems.
