Recycle Poem by Barry Middleton

Lonely rivers do not grieve
but flow to mother sea.
The lonely life that I must leave
conspires to set me free.

The river passes by a brook
and takes its living there
and does not lend a backward look
and has no sense to care.

A river and a man are one
and go the way they must.
When eulogy is said and done
the waters are a trust.

A borrowed soul will bless the sand
collected at the sea;
the skeletal remains of man
are setting fishes free.