The Plastic Bag

December 5, 2011
By HearYouGrawrr BRONZE, East Northport, New York
HearYouGrawrr BRONZE, East Northport, New York
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

It is a cloudless afternoon, during the season of azaleas and daffodils;
Wind is whooshing, as Jack Frost blows his last few breaths for the season.
A little boy lets go of a clean, transparent plastic bag into the air
Out of boredom, without any apparent reason or care.

The boy chaste and childlike,
Free to fly away, just like the plastic bag.
The plastic bag starts to dance away to the sound of Spring,
until the delicate dancer gets captured by the branch of a vicious tree.
The boy feels a sense of helplessness,
and is saddened by the fact that he lost a friend.

As I walk down the road for a morning coffee on a Saturday,
I pass by the same tree with a plastic bag on a branch.
The plastic bag is worn-out and ragged,
Damaged and bruised by time and harsh weather.

Split into many stretched-out pieces,
The plastic bag looks disheartened by his new form.

I cradle the worn and torn plastic bag in my hands, reminiscing the past,
trying to distinguish the faded writings that once shined brightly.
My hands calloused and worn, intertwined within the thin veil,
groping for the youth that had fluttered away

The author's comments:
For the free write, I decided to write a poem that has a rather serious tone. The inspiration came to me while I was walking down Larkfield Road on Saturday, trying to get a cup of coffee at Starbucks, when I saw a torn plastic bag hanging on a tree branch. I have been seeing this same plastic bag and the tree on every Saturday since I moved to this neighborhood, but never realized until today that the plastic bag’s form has changed since then. I decided to write this poem comparing the change that plastic bag went through to the growth and changes that I went through since I first saw that plastic bag. Using this comparison, I wanted to portray my sorrow for time going by so fast and for changing continuously without noticing. I used allusion to Jack Frost to describe the day weather when I first saw the plastic bag, and personified the plastic bag in order to make it seem more like a friend to me, rather than an object. The faded writing indicates time passing by, and is associated with maturing and aging. The poem’s ultimate purpose is to ignite loss of innocence.

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