once I was a lush terrain

but you drove me to the sand

& buried me.

fixed and dried and scared of Earth,

I’m roaming giant sandboxes

following the Atlantic’s soporific  voice,

seeking creeks and little dots of 

white remorse.

snow.

 this is how you’d rather have it.

 I once was a space of

bright, blue lakes

but now I’m

hot and hung and

bursting with

black magic.