Plastic

So it's autumn again, summer's gone away.
Trees weep their leaves
under the tires of the unaware;
it's raining.
These could have been, should have been woven;
crafted, at least into a brown paper bag,
but there's an ambulance now, and people are angry.
So it's autumn again, no summer fun now.

The wind howls because of obstruction, construction;
it can't find its way to freedom yet.
In this drizzle, there's no place warm anymore;
except inside the bottle of beer that doesn't care.
Funny how it tastes just as good warm,
it's been crafted to be enjoyed by the less fortunate,
no ice, no cooler, no problem.
but there's an ambulance now, and people are angry.

I suppose he had enough of "plastic"
and decided that a bottle of warm beer in a brown paper bag
would do...it took less effort, easy.
He was unaware it was raining as he drove away,
He could have been, should have been woven,
but she said "no," and the one she chose?
all he knows for sure is that it's raining.