This week ends,
and off to the view.

We're looking at nature,
I see tall bold trees,
I see loving birds,
I see beautiful leaves,
I see aqua flowing,
we're looking to nature.

We're listening at nature,
I hear wood wind,
I hear twenty tweeting,
I hear crisp twitching deciduous,
I hear warm sploshes,
we're listening to nature.

Hanging from a twig,
a plastic bag,
suffocating my ears,
and my eyes.

I hear nature.
I see nature.

My father and I were looking out on a lake view (usually go there on weekends) and listening and seeing plenty of nature's beauty. Many sounds and sites came about us, and we were there for a while enjoying our long lakeview lot with plenty of trees and water sploshing in on the sand quietly. We then spotted a plastic bag flopping in the wind, in the middle of nature, on a twig.

Plastic, however, is after all, from nature. Man can't truly create plastic from nothing - so this is why I still finish the poem with the fact that I hear nature and I see nature, even after being scammed and hurt from seeing the plastic bag. It didn't fit in, nonetheless,

I wrote the poem a few weeks after remembering this incident. It isn't the first time my father or I have spotted a plastic bag in the middle of no where out in the sticks.