Lava
Flow
Myriad
shades of black
Ramble
under a magic-marker sapphire sky
With
delusions of motion,
Like
the false current
Of a
flash-frozen river.
Rolling
hellish mounds
Of
rippling charcoal seem to stream
Beneath
the blue.
Don’t
believe the prehistoric vastness
Of this
brittle wasteland,
The
dinosaur roar
Of
ocean waves
Breaking
beyond the horizon.
A mere
twenty years ago,
This
was palm trees and fruit blossoms and sandy island coast.
All
that summer-vacation lushness
Was
consumed
By the
liquid fury
Crawling
down from the mountain
Where
the god glows at night.
It
oozed, cooled, and crystallized
Into
ossified sable,
Burying
everything the landscape knew.
Follow
the twisting red-sand path
Over
the fractured, flowing expanse,
Seeking
the solid places
Where
the earth won’t fissure
Under
your feet.
Follow
the crashing
Of
glass water cracking,
Pummeling
the newly ancient ground
And
grinding the god’s rage
Into
sand once more.
There,
an infant beach –
Fine as
flour,
Darker
than soot –
Lays on
the bones
Of the
once-was shore.
It hugs
the sun while it can,
Knowing
that, one day,
Fresh
orange ire will tumble again,
And a
dusky new barrenness
Will
swallow it whole.
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