The unexpected finding: in the bin

I found it on a Friday
A day overflowing with sunshine
And not-quite-garbage
The detritus of someone’s former life
When they’ve moved up a street
And no longer own their
crystal-hugging, rainbow-rugging
selves, slumming pin Lower Street.

They’re happy now in the higher heights
Living lives above us
While we jostle and rootle like pigs
Looking for nutrition, for nuggets
In the spoils of yesterday’s must-haves.


(Actually, I love it, but it’s true that I found it in a bin/street shopping set up). The rest of the poem is for effect. I think this polished stone may be snowflake obsidian.