as a little boy
i watched from the window
the truck rolled in with a rumble
the sound of a laboring giant
my heart raced with joy
as they hoisted our tin cans
i imagined treasures hidden
beneath the scraps of our lives
the world was a mystery
in those moments i dreamed
of finding lost coins
a forgotten toy or two
the garbage man was magic
turning rubbish into wonder
with every dozen steps he took
i yearned to be him
to touch the things
the world discarded
and learn their secrets
for even the unwanted holds
stories unseen in plain view
the beauty of a job
i admired the humble
for there is art in the chaos
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: October 10th, 2024 14:02
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
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Comments1
Recycling now days is the word. One man's trash is another man's treasure
It was a memory that came back out of a prompt for what did I want to be as a child
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