For Dorothy and all the
ordinary people
who do extraordinary things
Daybreak over
the Fresno City College grounds.
Branches of the centennial trees wind-dancing.
A band of Seven-up, Coca-cola and Pepsi cans
commences its rhapsody of crushed despair.
Speedy recycling vigilante single-handedly
converts recklessness of aluminum junk
into the scholarship gold of rising hope.
Praise her elderly, diligent hand in a cotton
glove,
meticulously mining through our ignorance
and turning dark misfortunes into vivid light.
Her calves of a former marathon runner,
among the rows of packed trash containers,
her rushing feet flying like German rockets.
My sleepy ecological conscience at risk.
I move my head sideways and catch the rays
of the morning star smile hovering above
the quiet anarchy of paper cups and wrappers.
Praise her elderly, diligent hand in a cotton
glove,
extended to salute you, even if it is too
engaged
sorting the rubbish to notice a casual observer.
Insomnia: the images of miniature old lady in
denim short-alls working alone by the fountain
of Fresno City College pride. The silver forest
of
her hair swinging in the rhythm of rustling
water.
Her back bent over piles of human lack of care.
A thousand students passing by, the young eyes
absorbing only the world they wish to see.
Praise her elderly, diligent hand in a cotton
glove.
It belongs to the mind of a retired English
teacher,
an eighty-year-old patron-saint of all
volunteers.
Greet and indulge Recycling Vigilante.
Her intellect of giving survival is unforeseen.
She is the nexus between our sense of humanity
and the slavery to text messaging and androids.
That distinct and modest creature is you in a
blueprint of the future. She holds the candle
for all.
Praise her elderly, diligent hand in a cotton
glove.
|