I slide back the lid
of the compost bin
and a cloud of flies

rises with the raw
stench and I see
creatures thriving

in the dark—nematodes,
snails, slugs, wrigglers
seething in the riot

of banana skins, rotifera
twisting through
apple cores releasing

sweetness, feather-winged
beetles digesting
leftover minestrone

and hard crusts
of bread softening
and turning black
with time
                    
                    Sowbugs
and the bugs
that feed on them,

rove beetles, predatory
mites, formicid ants
and carabid—

We should be grateful
to them all, especially
the invisible mesophilic

bacteria who do
the principled work
of death

In the busy darkness
beneath the garden
earthworms absorb

bacilli through
their epithelia
while fine white threads

of mycelia reach
into the cells of the woody stalk
and hard husk of sunflower

nourishing the roots
of the elderberry
offering the fruit

we harvest and simmer down
to a thick syrup of darkness
we consume a spoon at a time