Object Reject

Object Reject

Suits arrive, a most festive occasion

Winds breeze by, vibrant with life

Each must make their own decision

To follow in peace, or fight in strife.

Hibiscus flowers bloom in the shade,

Water droplets caress the curvy flower

The vibrant colors once, now slowly fade,

In the face of the season’s great power.

Within the home, the gentle do savor,

The works of their neighbors and fathers.

The final fruits of their friends’ hard labor,

As the car and the policeman, outside, gathers.

Tractors of old, and worn do sit vacant,

Unused and uncared for, like others, abound.

Their power and worth, a mere small percent,

of their value once, in history, that was found.

Vehicles fly by, upon the asphalt highway,

As bicycled travelers pedal out their path.

Worried less of the speedy expressway,

Instead commute an environmentalists’ swathe.

Objects sit about, they lay everywhere,

Purchased and cherished once, but no longer.

True worth found in what markets will bear,

While humans all become less the stronger.

A once bright and clearest of vision,

now a bleak and terrible occasion.

But what is this that crests the horizon?

A beacon of hope, a change, a decision.