Juniper Wolfenbarger

What is trash and what is treasure?
An impossibility to discern.
Where in my heart lies the sentimental limbo that objects inhabit?
Small, broken things with so much meaning imbued.

How do they contain themselves within a form,
while simultaneously erupting,
with all of the rage,
and longing,
and resentment,
and love
I’ve impregnated them with.

Who else will attend to these
pitifully sweet, lifeless shapes?
Who else will navigate their landscapes,
their ecosystems?

I am the groundskeeper,
mycelium, millipedes,
drawn to spent vessels.
discovering their base elements—
motion, texture, vivid color
fibers spun from memory,
pain,
pleasure,
protection.