Detritus Song by Will Cordeiro

Snow remains in patchworks
    where shadows hold their grudges.
Light leaks from cloudbanks glancing

    over grasslands like a matchbook.
Meltwater trickles smudges
    down crevices of canyon.

Crows tumble plum-black feathers.
    Spring’s fitful weather’s starting.
Compost of thistles, bracken

    transfigure scratch together.
The marsh gas triggers sparks.
    A mockingbird goes bragging

about its spoilt crabapple
    across the pockmarked rubble.
It’s plagiarized odd chatter

    was picked from little scraps
talk radio once covered.
    The river plays more static.

We dash through trash and bustle,
    bright nubbins budding out.
Each nettle bristles golden,

whole meadows lit with tassels,
    rich moss massed all about us:
a rot that dazzles thresholds.

— from Juniper Volume 7, Issue 1