We fill our landfills
That we build sky high
With electronic gadgets
That we must all buy
… All in the name of Progress

We cut down the forest
And industrialize the farm
We poison our food
And do the land harm
… All in the name of Progress

We squander Earth’s resources
And take but not give
We pollute the air
Until nothing can live
… All in the name of Progress

We scar our very souls
By our wanting for more
We ignore those in need
As we slam shut the door
… All in the name of progress



The plastic containers
Are so neatly stacked
They are piled high
And tightly packed

Many are repurposed
Some are bought new
Stored in a cabinet
Safely out of view

Oh those pesky lids
They seem to run away
I am sure they were here
Just the other day

I really don’t know
What to make of it
The tops and bottoms
No longer seem to fit

Perhaps they eloped
With my missing socks
Although that would be
Quite unorthodox


Born in Wilmington Delaware in the early 1950s, Ann Christine Tabaka has been writing poems and rhymes since her Junior High years. She lives with her husband and two cats and was a Fine Arts Major in college.


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