Two benches, joined by a trash container? All looped together for convenience, but covered in snow, as yet undisturbed by the day. What do we make of this? Is it a symbol for everyday life? Is it the benches providing comfort and rest in a weary world but left empty because of the contamination of a trash bin? Wooden crafted to hide its contents, yet odors seep out.
Life it is, today, here in America. A presidency dressed in red, white and blue to appease, but divided by speech and texting and tweeting. The odor no longer seeps, it pours.