• pride of place •

Walking the dogs this morning,
a fall day of such excellence,
crystal air, cerulean blue,
the sun, like a cool pearl
against the skin.
Up the street, a man on his bike,
peddled towards us,
holding a styro cup,
which he tossed away, carelessly,
it’s contents splattering everywhere.
I got mad. What to do?
“What, you couldn’t find a trash can, man?”
Even with his earbuds in,
he did hear me, and from
the way he looked away, I knew.
He just peddled on. He didn’t care.
He was just passing through.
(I picked it up, and brought it with.)
I never realized I had any ‘pride of place’, but apparently, I do.
~ Tim Burchfield



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