was hiking out to where the lava met the sea
on the big island of Hawai’i. Kīlauea was weeping
blood but the goddess Pele was asleep.
I stood at the center of creation on newly minted land,
listened to the roaring song of the red-hot lava
hissing in the lava tunnel, making its way to the surf,
and the soles of my hiking boots melted,
was a small price to pay.
4/30/22
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