Rubbish

Today I fill the bin with ten dead leaves
A tree that perished in the wintry breeze
A plant that died  inside the house called mine
But nothing that I read about online

Today the kitchen bin is taken out
Kleenex tissues, dirty  little thoughts
So confessing sins was that as well
Clearing out the smut that in us dwells

Boundaries round the purified,the good
Separate it from what we  think is  bad
We must not let two become confused
Holy Smoke, the lines symbolic muse!
!
I throw out stuff that should not linger here
Transgression makes the sinner feel impure.