Plastic bags in trees

They annoy me, and they inspired this poem to my long gone great aunts.


The Piece Dividend

Piece Dividend

A white flutter high up in the beech.
The plastic prayer flag of a universal brand.
Their mantra? Buy one get one free.

What would they have made of it? Those barren
rationed aunts, whose only dividend in life
was granted by the corner Co-op.

Those women who bought butter by the pat
whose lives were grease-proof wrapped.
What would they have made of the miracle of

Kenyan runner beans
Tibetan gogi berries,
Chilean Merlot, or garlic naan?

Would they agree the sacrifice was worth it?
Their future for mine today, on tick?