The Garbage Collector
The Garbage Collector
He had horse and cart
made a living collecting trash,
bringing it to the tip.
He was often inebriated,
but the horse knew the route.
He was temperate
when April came around
and the sun smiled.
He planted flowers in his yard
and in June it was Paradise.
It didn’t last long,
he had eleven children,
eager, running feet.
Blooms trampled to the ground,
endless his quest for beauty.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Added by Poetry Lover
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