OK, forgive me for the lame heading, but I actually do love geology. In fact, had I been a better math student, I would have become a geologist rather than a writer. Believe me I tried. I eagerly attended geology 101 and 102 in hopes that my love of nature, the earth, maps and the world around me would somehow transform me into a mathematician. Sadly, it was not to be. Probably, and even sadder, my love for partying with friends on 6th Street in Austin, Texas conflicted with my desire to study as hard as math required. Plus, the other geologist would have probably laughed at my rhinestone-trimmed offshore rigger outfits. Anyway, I did become a writer and the following poem is my consolation prize.

TOPOGRAPHY

Walking the dark side of roads
I use no light
Or share what I have lost-
Mind records its landscape
Soul exaggerates relief between
The distances of falls
Mark the path- leaving scars
Which are a map
To route mistaken turns-
And guide my search of private ground
Until the key shines back at me