After the cataclysm
you
………broke………..away
from me. For years
………the lands……….drifted
……………………across
……..the cold sea.
Fate…………..propelled
……………………….your plate
into another,
………………and you
…………………………connected
as we never could. You called
him Asia, and he praised you,
Africa. He impressed you
with his thick lush forests,
and danced on your sunbeaten
planes. Together
you and he watched the ice
form over me, alone in that
darkness, you named me

………………..Antarctica.

©Shawn Nacona Stroud

*This poem was previously published in Issue #7 of Mississippi Crow Magazine.