City-life

Plastic bag dances on the street,

twisting and dodging like a matador fighting

the charging traffic.

Adroitly avoiding the horsepower,

coming from the four directions of the wind,

it floats like a flutterby on breaths of air.

Puffing up like the chest of a teenage boy on the beach,

it dares closely the teeth-like grills of Cougars and such,

and joins the stampede of Broncos and Impalas.

Flying over the heads of milling pedestrians,

like an outsized pigeon,

it glides around the corner of a building.

Threading its' way through alleys,

and riding up-drafts of exhaust fans,

it floats gracefully toward fields of green.

The pasture of park,corralled by concrete,

ringed by gnarled oaks,beckons.

Onward it journeys.

Suddenly snatched from the sky,

by fingers of twigs on the arms

of tree giants,it struggles.

It thrashes to be free as the bus

takes it from his view,

and he wonders........