Everywhere our eyes would look,
There were treasures to be found:
A tricycle, a bicycle
And toys just sitting around.
A baby doll carriage just for me,
A stove and refrigerator,
Bright ribbons we could tie in bows
And fix our hair with later.
We made the longest chain we could
From coke can tabs collected;
We picked up brightly colored jars
The rich folks had rejected.
When we’d gathered all our treasure,
Daddy sterilized them all day
In an old wash tub in our front yard
Before he’d let us play.
Memories of days spent at the dump
Can always bring me pleasure,
Where a rich man’s trash did surely become
A poor child’s priceless treasure.
moleta mccarter 1998
