Alluvium
by Madeline Trosclair
The silted heart and heron
born of moon-silver fringes
Skims the waterline.
Each touch, if briefly, inside
Somewhere only ever. These
Moments at the river’s soft
Mouth are geographically young
And unfolding, always.
A drainage pipe yields alluvial
Runoff decorating the ditch
beside the cane field.
The heron extends its wings
For another flight. See?
An unfolding, always.
Madeline Trosclair is a writer from Southeast Louisiana pursuing a Masters of English in Creative Writing at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. With an emphasis on ecological poetry, her work has been featured in The Madrigal, The Tide Rises Journal, Glass Mountain, and is forthcoming in Moss Puppy Magazine and Wraparound South. She is fond of bayous, cooking, and warm light.
