Plastic Isle

by Dee Allen

Her scream for help
Straight from the Pacific Ocean

Where warm Pacific water
Meets cooler Arctic water
Slowly churning around
And around and around and around
Pulling into the strong current
Sailing debris, disposed items
Mostly polymers, mostly
Trapped plastic
Into the vortex.
The artificial centre, surprisingly,
Will hold, and stay afloat for
Time indefinite,
Growing to a larger
Size infinite
The more cities’ refuse floats
From three separate coasts—
Taught to swim down foetid sewers,
Eventually reaching the greater ocean—
Seagulls get peckish feeling in flight, spot
Coloured wire, torn trash bags,
Mistaken for squirming food—

Plastic isle
That should not be
A testament to wastefulness
Adrift at sea.

*AYMARA & QUECHUA: “Mother Earth”. Literal translation: “Earth mother”.

© 2021 Dee Allen  All rights reserved.

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