Poetry

Leviathans

For giants who once wandered the earth,

their bones are sure elusive.

Yes, the snow may be deep,

the sand too quick,

the volcano about to erupt,

but you’d think their brilliant remains

would declare themselves like beacons.

Not so, once again to the map I go,

so scribbled and crossed out it’s barely legible.

I hear the doctor snort, and casually he hands me the real map

and removes my brain scan from my grasp.