Litter Beast Poem by Cleveland W. Gibson

I am a hunter in the city. I creep, I walk,
I run. Thro' the night I look out for
tossed litter in the many streets so
silent to put right.
The beast in me chokes with rage to
find those blobs of gum to scrape
away, then to clean and sort again,
what other people should have done.
I think too of my children, your new
twins and many more, those kids born
into the city where green fields were
before.
As the light of dawn is creeping in past
the window panes, the birds are
sweetly tweeting and I go on back
home again.
Tonight my good work is finished, I
leave others to do some task, to make
life a better place. Friend, what more in
town or city dare we ask?