A Pome a Day for a Year

Why do I see so many trolleys placed
in the reeds and weeds
of the local riverbank?

What posesses a person
to chuck those friendly metal carriages
to their rusted dooms
where their dreams of helping
are dashed against the murky flotsam.

Who could do this?
Ruin the hopes of the jolly carrying cages
of being vital to the success
of your weekly sustenance shop?

Those criminals, chucking away
the lifelines of families who need
to push kids around
while dealing with weekly lists
and perhaps a swift visit to Wilkos
to pick up a new rug
because the pets did a whoops
on the one Aunt Mabel got.

Please treat these trolleys better,
if you are thinking of being horrid
to our wonderful angels
of thin tubular metal.