Flotsam

I saw some flotsam floating by
Or maybe it was jetsam.
Whichever one it was, I know
The river always gets some.

It’s strange that if I’d spotted it
On sidewalk, road or street,
It would have just been detritus
That I had chanced to meet.

But floating cast-offs seem to take
A step up on the scale,
For, carried by the currents,
They’re explorers setting sail.

And where they’ll settle, we can’t know
But out there on the sea,
Unlike the city’s litter,
They are rambling and free.