Glow the Bag

He leaves the store in the hand

of a recent widow dressed

in black with bright orange shoes

Her veil obscures very little

of the grief behind her dark glasses

It's not often a bag gets a poem

for in parts of this nation

similar items are called sacks

His name is Glow you should know

and if his poorer cousin the sack

should get the same publicity

the bag would be on her head

and the sack upon her body

Such are the wars between

the sacks and the bags

The sacks would remind you

they are usually made of paper

The bags are of oil-based plastic

For the sack a tree must die

For the bag a whatyacallapus

has decomposed deep in the earth

We can't name the sack here

because the woman only had a bag

and as we all know

bags and sacks get their names

when someone takes one home

Bag names are quite pronounceable

whereas sacks receive their name

from the sound they make

when the clerk pulls one from a shelf

As since each sack has a different sound

most humans can't make it

with their teeth tongue gums and lips

As for the widow we are confined

to earthly descriptions as she

saunters through her sequins

whispering her name to a bag

that needs to know who cradles it

in her arms soon to be en-robed

in what only a bald vicuna

will allow from a store in a bag

with the idiopathic name of Glow

Barry G. Wick