It could have been a piece of a kite
A propeller dislodged from a toy airplane
Or a frisbee – splintered by time
These piles of brightly colored festivity
That stole your wings
Piled themselves around your frail bones
Jagged gates rising from the sand
Beckoning entrance to a mausoleum
Of garish plastic bits festooning a grave
Memorial wreaths of confetti
Motley mosaics releasing stolen breath
Into the wind; Pilfered feathers
Upon the tide
About the Poem
I chose to write about the plastic in our oceans that is killing not only birds but marine animals. I saw a news article that had pictures of piles of bones and brightly colored plastic in the sand. It reminded me of the fake flowers we put on graves in cemeteries.
About the Author
She lives in a house dominated by three cats, two dogs, two sons, a mother, and a husband.