My first poem published in a magazine
An arctic blast in early spring
from Gaia’s violent play.
No moderation does she bring,
only gale and gust and fury.
Her breath slows its hasty harass.
Silvern frost dusts the swards.
Daffodils and crocus mass
and bump their flowery heads.
Nature sparkles in her bling,
swift to anger.
Then she ends her angry fling;
becomes serene and tender.
She’s Greek like some chimera
inconsistent, often frigid.
In Rome we called her Terra.
Stern in civic virtue , also rigid.
Complex though seeming inorganic
she overwhelms the organismic
with climate, which can destroy,
violate her play and leave her arid.
We call it weather and it can kill
Inconsistent as the woman patriarch’s defame.
They call her home—our mother world.
Then proceed to slow and sullen matricide.
Printed in Dawntreader Magazine in spring 2019. Published by Indigo Dreams
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