Weeds

so as I was walking

surrounded by trees leafing out

alone except for the advances of biting flies

I was thinking

   what with Earth Day tomorrow

   shouldn’t I be picking up
trash?

started to think instead

   trash is growing like weeds
around here

        weed: “a plant that is not valued where
it is growing”

asked myself

   what could be the value of
trash, if any?

answered myself

   to a future archaeologist this
trash might be quite a find:

   a memory trace of humans past

redefined weed:

  a shard of memory that is not
valued where it is found

     beer can of teen with no legal place to
party

     hyper-caffeinated beverage can of one past-teen
trying to keep it going

     spring water bottle of a health-stricken
runner

     cigarette
stub of an ostracized smoker

     fruit roll-up wrapper of a treat shared by
children not ready for any of the above

asked myself

   who am I to tamper with the
weeds of tomorrow?