The cold that once held continents now extends its measure across every interval of fusion, cradling each vanished channel of melt as one more gradient soon to be forgotten in unbroken quiescence.
“Cliff faces remember the longer shadows of an age before the wheel found its balance and the sun's path shortened the grip of endless winter.”
“Flint grooves still trace the rush of ancient rains through valleys ice once barred to feet when lights above traded their high seats.”
“High stone fractures trap thunder's echo from the time the seven sisters moved their dance leaving bone to settle in mud that once flowed freely.”
“Does the ice recall the fleeting rivers that cut valleys in its absence, its vast patience cradling each thaw until stars shift the pole once more and silence reclaims the land?”