It’s capacious for such a remote place.
You’re used to seeing it empty, even
Just before the weekly emptying rite,
When the dump truck labors up the mountain
To forklift the great dumpster
Like a kid draining a cereal bowl.
On this day, however, it overflowed.
A mountain of trash rose over its rim,
Some of it already scattered by winds.
A hard job for the dump crew this week,
You thought, realizing seeing this changed
The meaning of the dumpster in your mind.
This must have happened before. This is why
Emptiness is left here, most of the year.