It’s been a little while since my last Rubbish Poem, over two months actually, so I thought it time for another. I know, and I agree with you when you exclaim, “It took you two months to write this?!”
Two baseball’s and one bobble
Crown the heads of the Hi-Vis trio,
Warming these barons of the bins as they walk
And work and guide The Beast – their regent – safely
Through the lightening dark of
Another dismal day’s dreary drizzly dawn.
One third of the threesome beckons,
On measured, reversing feet, his orange tabard
Flashing in the burgeoing light as he coaxes his kinsmen
Onwards and backwards, slipping past cars and by trees,
Bringing their royal charge thundering upon Her quarry
Until, finally, She feasts finely on festering, fetid food.
Two baseball’s, one bobble, their queen,
Parade through streets that weekly they own.
Down lanes filled with waste bagged, boxed and binned
And piled high as yesterday dipped into darkness.
Such roadside offerings soothe the brows of men,
Calming concerns, collectively clearing consciences.
The Beast wheels off in search of more.
There is always more and She knows what awaits;
A time when more becomes too much for even
Her voracious appetite. She grins, both expectant and sad.
Heads bowed in accord, the Hi-Vis lead their mistress away.
Two baseball’s, one bobble, The Beast, bravely battle on.