Recycled

When Woking Council introduced recycle bins,
you discovered your reason for living;
to save a world with one household's waste
obsessively separating
papers, mags, gloss, pamphlets, glass.
We battled more ferociously now
over bedroom territory, my bottles;
brown-ale, beer, green, clear.
Vainly to hoard those defiant trophies in my space.
You entered without a thought or knock.
Even my waste bin was not to be sacred
contents dealt like a poker hand;
(torn exam results reassembled, three, jack, ace)
I began to sneak to the park to use the public bins.
What is adulthood except the rites of choice,
to hold onto empties and some things discard.