Flight of the Paper Bag

 Resting now on the chipped, green bench
Feeling wrinkled but comforted           
Her life did not end in the land of bin.

 With Strong Windgust
She takes flight
Learning of sad human tales.

 Pitiful lives wrapping up in themselves
Neglecting to care for the creatures of less
Polluting the earthen roots and waters of blue
Rushing in cars to buildings of work
Living their lives in troubled pursuit
Of newer improved consumer delights.

 Soaring higher, surveying Mother Earth
Knowing her soul is too weary
For more travels of woe
She beckons Wise Windgust
To take her to the land of bin.

Nancy Sack