Green, red, blue,
The sky,
rains down and thickens in the air,
the rumbling gut,
worms and flies,
scraps on the table or chicken scratch,
bits of bark, the dead tree tall and standing,
the pill we swallow,
things we carry,
everything is compost,
not everything breaks down,
a turned over thought, smooth and polished, but bulbous in my brain,
broken pieces of glass,
smooth by the sea or small plastic that lives with my thoughts,
wraps themselves around, a cling film,
sediment into stone, a jagged mountain side, an island, that we swim to,
the air we hold, try to hold in air, or exhale,
soil or sand in our hands,
under our nails,
everything is compost,
some things break down,
a broken down car on the highway,
rusting metal, oxidize hunger,
a cloud that turns white to blue to gray,
the bolt that strikes,
the scar that marks,
a salve made with flowers and things found about,
the roadside herb,
words washed down the drain,
everything is compost,
we want to break down
