Changing Geologies Poem by Mark Heathcote

A cooling wind scurries around my heart
that now feels like a cratered Idaho landscape,
volcanic lava erupts and leaves crater rings
where once there were two breathing as one.
These are now leftover deposits like you and me.
This geology change may never sustain
the arm, the hand of friendship that bridges
the future, the past, and the present.

And maybe it doesn't now really belong.
Oh, how dark is this punctured outpost
in the deepest corner of my heart
it's as though a leaden curtain has drawn
and left an eternal shadow that was once-
ever so green, beautiful, golden, and virginal.
But now, without you,
it's as dead and barren as the petrified moon.