Mystery of the bag

The lake view, yellow and purple
Little flowers’ silent whisper,
The sunny pine-hill hums,
The bag hanging from the tree
Holds the stroller imaginative:

A SUV pulls up at the picnic table,
Smell of barbecue,
Loud music, laughters,
Even the tree branches dance
To the cheery mood.
A man hangs a plastic bag
On the tree.
“A gift for you,” with a grin he says.

When quiet again, the tree seems to wonder,
What is hanging from its branch.
The translucent bag reveals it a bit–
It’s something like…had been
In the gut of the man or the stars.
The tree stiffens in confusion,

Ill humor disrespects the beauty
Of the Nature.
If trees can think—
O but they might feel in a way we
Don’t understand—It would think,

The man must be an alien,
No human can be that rude
To our Mother Nature.
Gift from the alien—
A Hazmat suit, necessary to
Make it clear then.

©Byung A. Fallgren