[G]littering

Could you imagine trash turned to sparkles, heaped
in piles beside concrete sidewalks, how they’d catch

and reflect the red and green from traffic signals? Luster
would ooze down the steps in front of the library to gather 

at the base like a spring of radiance. Everything would
shimmer and shine—plastic bags would float like iridescent  

bubbles in the sun. Cigarette butts would become tiny
glow sticks, smog would glisten over this street 

like fairy dust. Empty styrofoam cups would blossom
and blaze into bioluminescent flowers. Into fallen stars.

In the fountain, candy wrappers would flicker diamond
brilliance, become cichlids. We’d collect dazzling bottle caps 

from beneath benches and tree trunks, and every landfill
would twinkle like fresh snowfall on Christmas morning.