The breeze sneaking through the trees. . .

Past the forest, down to the beach.

She stops and pauses for a minute there. 

The pollution of the water is just not fair.

 

She goes further and further

Blow by blow

but trash is pulled on Tow by tow.

A trash island is what it seems.

A trap for living things is what it means.

She tries to blow it to bits-away, away, away-

Day after day

B

  L

    O

       W

            S

Works with the ocean spray

But it stays.

 

She blows, blows, blows to another beach.

The trash from the humans has a wide reach.

She sees humans who have made this mess.

Though, those humans seem to have stress.

 

The group is plucking trash.

She suddenly sees a white flash (and goes nearer)

She hasn’t been here for a while (she goes closer)

The sight of less pollution makes her smile.

She sees them harnessing her wind to make energy-

She pulls away but sees it's a better strategy.

 

She goes back to the beach,

She hopes the human feels her reach.

 

She watches them make art.

She thinks “huh, that's quite smart”

The group has compostable bags.

Others were made from repurposed rags.

 

She blows, blows away.

Maybe to come back another day.