Chore

The wind blew a dumpster across the street
into my yard at the exact spot where I put mine
on Wednsday nights. It belonged to the acounting
firm across the street. They no doubt thought
that it was mine, the next morining and that
they'd lost theirs. It sat there for two days.

As I rolled the dumpster across the street
in the middle of the night and parked it
at the corner where they usually keep it,
I wondered what they would think.
Was it stolen and returned after the thief
was haunted by a guilty conscience? Did
the trash company bring a new one?
Did someone borrow it for the weekend?
I walked back across the quiet street
in a clean breeze, having done the good deed
of milking a little mystery out of the world
and leaving a few people in wonder over it.