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I stood helplessly by
as a mountain of ice
slowly crawled over my
stick-built life
Those years, much of me died
Sifted through debris
and load-bearing lies
that formed the scars
several canyons wide
Those years, much of me died
and was left behind
for anyone to find
there in the ice
I found more than gravel
in these wounds
A glacial pace
erodes the weight
of prior mistakes
Grinding fate into
exposed
shorn from
newborn bluffs
When all I knew
had been carved through
a twisted topography
births perspectives anew
Duality and despair
usually found in pairs
Geologic pain
evokes the same
memories
I found more than gravel
in these wounds
Those years, much of me died
and was left behind
for anyone to find
there in the ice
Glaciation followed by
glimmering truths
When more ice comes aground
and streams trail behind
frozen, but still alive
Dare I be so lucky to find
gold exposed behind them all?
Gold in every tragedy
that makes landfall