Jessica Sneddon: a poem



Sediments

Architectural trees frame

the skeletal canopy.

Fell water fills leaf wells

in itself and of itself

a trickle down the woodland slope

revives summer-dusted stones:

a waterfall in a hollow.

Sparrow answers

its echo, tethered

faecal sacks

in wishbones, shoved in crooks

black plastic tied to branches:

piles and piles, of defecated parcels

dumped

in indivisible clumps

tree to tree

this network of polymers

corrugated becks run dry

resist

plastic channels.

White Moss compresses

secretions become sediment

Millenia from now:

plastic fossils in a silent forest



Jessica Sneddon is a poet and recent Masters graduate who is fortunate enough to call Cumbria home. Her work has appeared in Tears in the Fence, Magma, Stand, and Ink, Sweat and Tears.