Salvation

a garbage pail
black on a street of pastel
brimming with trash
and the leavings of trees
alone on a curb of shaven green grass

a sad lonely bucket
reminding the dusk
that others will come
clatter and clank
then silent and surly
sprouting like mushrooms
silhouettes in the night

just before dawn
clashing and clanging
first far away
grows louder
crescendo
descends into distance

silhouettes no longer
they’ve whisked out of sight
furtive
ashamed
exposed by the light

leaving the trash basket
unlidded and emptied
to again stand alone
and blemish perfection
inspiring this poem

meanwhile in Heaven a long way away
The One Who Creates
opens the gates
allowing to enter one single sinner
reminding the rest
that He is God
and they the blest

a choir somewhere singing lustful and loud
impresses that angelic crowd
with perfect precision and pitch
until one note falls flat
and God laughs

as the song goes on