The Dump

In the Backyard
Digging holes
Into each an item dropped
Something to be buried
Like the occasional dagger
Thrown upon the lawn
Carelessly from a passer by
Intentionally from a passer by
Maliciously from a passer by
Cluttering up the yard
My yard
With sticks & stones
Yet I do not throw them back
Back at my detractors
I never liked throwing daggers
So I never learned how
My penance then
To pick them up
And to bury each one
Where it won’t be seen
Like it was never thrown
Into my yard
Into my face
So no one can see them
And if I don’t look
Neither will I

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