Beauty

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.