Each tree is its own advertisement
against plastic bags. Bare branches
unwittingly hold dirty banners
that mutter there and sigh,
rubbing against the sky
like fingers on a balloon.
Somewhere other than this, the
Young Explorers Club is meeting,
ten boys in a church basement,
community center, or bingo hall,
someplace where it doesn’t
sound ridiculous, this pledge
to be a certain way and do
certain things.
Young Explorers promise, for example,
to remove plastic bags from trees,
when weather permits and when
they have built tall enough ladders
or long enough hooks, over the course
of many weeks. They also pledge
to take notice of things like
dead squirrels in alleys—
not to remove them, but
simply to take note, pause,
when they are out walking.
In this way, the Young Explorers think,
no life can ever be wasted. Crows know
the truth: that nothing ever is, not when
the world abounds with young explorers,
and all of them so hungry.
For Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. Also, it should be noted that the phrase Young Explorers Club is from Jesse S. Mitchell’s poem by that name. The title popped up in my inbox because I follow his blog, and my mind started working. Please be sure to check out his poem, too — it will give you a lot to think about.
Marilyn Rauch Cavicchia 
I like this. it is very good. and I’m mentioned at the end down there, neat.
Thanks, Jesse … I’m so glad you weren’t offended by my stealing an idea from your title. I wrote my poem just from the title of yours, and then read your poem afterwards — it’s interesting that we both mentioned creatures devouring other dead creatures.
Like how you began it with each tree being an ad, interesting thought, and they just kept coming, wonderful write.
Thank you so much, Pat!
Mysterious!!
Thanks … I wanted the Explorers to be kind of like Boy Scouts, but sort of off-kilter and dreamlike.
dead squirrels — the greatest realization is that they are just like us but with far fewer ceremonies. A moment of observation is good!
Yes … My son and I saw one in an alley today and took a moment to say how sorry we felt.
i think it is a beautiful thing to learn….to be a noticer…i find a bit sad they have to hide away a bit because of its ‘absurdity’ of being a certain way…
Thanks, Brian! Noticers are definitely outside of the mainstream at times. Who knows what these boys will grow up to be?
I like the point of view that a dead squirrel is as worthy of note as anything else; seen through a true poet’s eyes.
Thanks so much, Zouxzoux!
Keep going back to the final lines and the words:
“Crows know
the truth: that nothing ever is, not when
the world abounds with young explorers,
and all of them so hungry.”
Because hunger for truth, beauty, detail is what drives us as poets to notice, to encourage our kids and those around us to notice. It’s what the teens in my life most want — to be noticed, especially by their parents. Hmmm…different than what you intended, I suspect, but those lines have captured my heart and gotten me thinking. Thank you.
Thank you so much for that interpretation, Cindee! I love it. It wasn’t completely intended, but I think there was a bit of it there, in that I didn’t want to suggest that the scavenging animals are grotesque or wrong in any way. Young creatures are hungry, and they and their parents find what feeds them. I love what you said about poets and teenagers — hunger isn’t always just for food, that’s for sure.