The sun was starting to yawn across the sky
When I stepped out to pass the morning by.
The path was broken in a grid of cracked
Cement and crawling worms. Its charm lacked tact.
The bushes shrunk away with brittle sticks;
The yellow grass housed remnants of a fix-
A crumpled can, a powdered plastic bag-
I stopped and stared and gulped away a gag.
But then I saw a girl behind a tree
Crouching with a camera on her knee.
With one eye shut she turned and aimed the lens
At the can and worm as if they made some sense.
When she depressed the shutter, I shuddered.
But so far the world still has not stuttered.
