A plastic bag in the wind is trash
to some, beauty to others.
Who’s to say what’s right or wrong?
Desperate eyes see freedom in lift and airiness,
a thing not of nature riding on nature’s wings,
accepted without question, unencumbered
by expectations, allowed to be
its most spontaneous, creative self. A vessel
to hold other things, it’s true, but filled
with possibilities of what those things might be.
***
Poem inspired by the plastic bag scene in the film American Beauty which I find achingly sad yet hopeful.
Oh, I watched that movie probably around that time when you wrote this post. I have seen it several times and every time I find something new about life, love, death.
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Same here. One of my favorites.
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