A Poem About Recycling

My ultimate ambition in life
is to be recycled. When I die
I shall not be put
with the newspapers, plastic bottles,
glass (separated into green, brown and white) ,
cans and aluminium foil
into the box to be collected
on alternate Mondays
– that is not dignified
for a human,
and besides it is unhygienic.
But recycled I will be
into soil and air,
beetle, centipede and blackbird,
and the blossom
that every year comes
and fades.
Yes,
I’ll be back.