Shred-mulch, or is it mulch shreds, multi-colored confetti fluttering to the ground. Spreading a blanket to feed, to enrich the soil that feeds us.

Ouch! A rigid bit of plastic, ripping a gash in the foot of the conqueror treading the ground.

I fear much less the war of massaging words on the page than the war to eradicate the “forever” toxins we, Homo Sapiens, have inflicted upon Mother Earth.