Every time I go I take a bag with me
to collect the rubbish I see in the verges,
the plastic bottles and chip containers
and drink cans strewn in the hedges.
Every time I pick one up there are
two voices in my head, one of them
says "How dirty is that? Put it down!
Did I rear you so that you would not
keep yourself clean?" and I disobey it.
The other voice comes from the planet,
on which I try, and fail, to walk lightly
it says "Thank you for leaving me more tidy".
*the only time I am at ease with the word
'spiritual' is with the word practical before it.
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