I belong in the delta, my
heart in the daiquiri cup
cast within a nameless
waters’ muck and no Bayou
St. Blank decomposing it.
I think I offend such spaces
with its swarming gnats on
the path and termite season
still stuck in my pocket. Too
much flesh, too much color
lacking of the browns and grays—
my edges not quite yellowing.
Founded in freshwater
and these levees break
me. Algae, algae soaking up
the sun, fish floating belly up.
Madeline Trosclair is a writer from Southeast Louisiana pursuing a bachelors of English in creative writing at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. With an emphasis on ecological poetry and non fiction, her poetry as been featured in the 2019 publication The Southwestern Review, and she is the recipient of the 2020 Judge Felix J. Voorhies Award for creative writing. Her work explores the relationship one has with land, culture, and loss.
