Jessica Lee McMillan

Somehow a patch of sunflowers
bloomed from the street corner
— a concrete wedge
of dog waste baggies,
trash from the cannabis shop
and sloven fast food cups —
like salty debris at pocket bottom
the roasted seeds
stopped feeling sorry
for this curb — bald and cold
save for garbage garlanding
its sag of chain-link —
and took custody of colour,
made trellis arresting the view
with petals as warm rays
from defiant green stalks,
grew a sunrise in the ditch