Terra Cotta

Daffodils and irises break
the earth around my grandma
’s house, springs of sudden sun
and dusk on either side of her
living room, embattled perennials
narcissistically persisting among
the wintered shrapnel of unchaperoned
transplants, ariadneus rhizomes
mazed into existence between
overgrown weeds burying the rubber
ribbon borders of my grandpa
’s pastime, relentless reminders
of the different weight words carry
(lost and forgotten hold feeble
counterbalance), tipping the teary scales
from our eyes while we beg her
to kick over the still
potted abominations rooting through
untended cells and creeping over her
bedroom windows, suffocating
the pristine scene he left
when his own foot struck the bucket.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash.

Steven O. Young Jr.

Steven O. Young Jr. is something of a recluse submerged within the Great Lakes' mitten, tucked under its thumb on the fringe of Detroit. Before turning hermit, he earned an MA from Oakland University and still may occasionally be spotted slathering soundstages with layers of paint. His latest works can or will be found within The Rush Magazine, NonBinary Review, Lucky Jefferson, New Note Poetry, and Reunion: The Dallas Review. Find more of his work here.