Detritus

what's the tarnish that white, white snow becomes when spring arrives? the urban crust of our winter city caked on fenders and edges of sidewalks. cigarette butts and beer cans sprouting like spring flowers. every year i think to myself that the trees have met their match, they are never going to make it. they are done being green, but instead they impress me. somehow despite ice and cold and haphazard plows they persevere and unravel into green breathing living things. they have the ability to make us forget about the snow, cold, and darkness and put us into a summer trance.