Lying down and looking up
Underneath the hydro towers
dandelions splotch their leaves flat.
Their stems reach up to the lines
and hold the biggest little electric yellow sparks next to the Sun,
balance them there beneath the wires for a week.
Then each bulb turns into a cloud
that, attracted to the sky, lifts up on strong winds
higher than even the wires and then falls back down again
until raindrops shock each landed seed
into a slow moving lightning root
underneath the towers again.
Flowers made out of colours alternating green, yellow, grey,
directed from one horizon to the other in a line
marked out on the ground by metal flowers planted once
and only once.
Terry Trowbridge is a PhD student in Socio-Legal Studies at York University, Toronto. His poems have appeared in journals in England, the USA, and Canada, including Orbis, The Broadkill Review, Briarpatch, Carousel, subTerrain, paperplates, Untethered, American Mathematical Monthly, and many others. He has several chapbooks with Grey Borders Books.