Trash Night
Passed sundown, but not quite night.
Heat, humidity still fill
the air. I tote trash outside,
collect recycling, move bins
to curb. My hair kinks with sweat.
Lone firefly shadows me, brings
light and joy to humdrum task.
2 thoughts on "Trash Night"
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GG, I have so enjoyed reading your poems this month.
Thanks, Karen. I’ve enjoyed reading yours, too.