Gutter's Catch

The rain had just stopped,

the street gleamed, slick and new.

From my window, I watched

the gutter swell, a muddy river.

A bright blue wrapper,

candy bar, probably.

It spun, a frantic, tiny boat,

between a sodden cigarette butt

and a broken twig,

brown and sharp.

It caught a moment,

in a small, oily eddy,

then,

a quick suck,

down the dark grate.

Gone.

Just like that.

The small things,

the things we let go.