Naming the Many

If naming the source solidified authenticity then it would be so, but anyone stepping out of their vehicle, loose leaf receipt stuck to the heel of their shoe, could’ve done it, continued walking, impervious to the receipts removal, as it anchored for a split second before being carried off by natural winds. From there it scampered down the sidewalk, intermingled in a potpourri of fall-colored-foliage and a white flag which had stamped on its frame Pesticide Application: Please Keep Off, before it settled in a pile of leaves, designating surrender. 

(Voiceless rubble sustains the ultimate function of Wu Wei.) 

But the receipt sparkled like dust inside a sunbeam snuggled there beside the rusted colors of fragile leaves. A curious party bent over and rescued it from that mass of bones, read off the purchased items. 

“Pregnancy test,” he said. “Someone new coming around.” 

He crumpled the paper into a ball, carried it for a few steps to a city sponsored receptacle and discarded the paper, granting it the name of trash.

%d bloggers like this: