As Death By Misadventure)
million years ago, this land
was warm. Longer still ago, it
straddled the equator, gave life,
rejoiced in heat and tropical seas.
There are both gains and losses
with continental drift. There is
acceptance of death by misadventure.
from the Caucasus, snow-blind,
exhausted, battered and depleted, what
I wanted was the beach. My home,
spreading a blanket on the complexity
and heat of sand. I wanted sun
penetrating tender layers of skin
gently, in a breeze of sea and flowers.
I met the lord of diamonds,
ice, and snow. Because I wanted
to believe, I ceded my sunshine for his
shadow. Felt the weight of fur, of fear.
In my delusion I ignored the warning wind,
the endless chasms, the kiss of frost
upon my skin. I did this.