North America.
Winter crouches over fall
and will always have its way.
Today was that day.
As I walked to the waterfall thinking about ice
wishing it colder because I had heard
of non-gravity snubbing a mid-stream flow,
the rain invaded.
Through windblown pellets and stinging skin
fingers numbing and mood going sour
I decided ice might be too cold
for the waterfall, for me.
And I resented it:
the rain.
Water slowly down the drain in the rental cabin shower.
The steam has settled on mirrors and walls.
My back arches in prayer
to the Goddess of Heat
and other large things
and I am unashamed of my indulgence
in the elements of water and fire
and the earth and the air
from which they came
because after the rain
my body begged extended warmth
and this was not Australia.
I eyes-shut smile and whisper wicked
so much water
so far from home
disassociation key.