The challenge for the poetry class
is to write about this packet of sugar,
but what can I say?
It's an example of crass American marketing
in its baby blue and white striped paper
with a 50s style American woman smiling
from the cover - very 'mom and apple pie'
like June Lockhart in Lassie
It doesn't belong here, on my colonial island.
It doesn't sing - like wind through the wires
at Windwhistle, doesn't stir and lurk the shorelines
like the two oceans that circle us
endless and tireless, waiting to engulf.
It's too much sweetness - like a buttercup
full of raindrops, from which fairies drink.