To Mother Earth

(Written Shortly Before the Apocalypse)

by Sharon Chmielarz

You were so weird, Earth, so beautifully blue      

weird. One of the Big Bang's prodigies,

you came from way back, deep into rock time,

even before the days when time wasn't

broken up in eras, before Earthlings found

continents by the stars' positions via coracles

and sails. Their simple diet—worms in grains,

soured cabbage from crocks in the galleys.

But you, Earth, the way you had of

whirling, really none of us did it better—

and the way you kept doing your face

after a long, cold winter. Pre-Holocene

if something bumped into you, you

just wrinkled up into a mountain range.

Now we can't depend on you for sure

footing. It's impossible to breathe or move

without a backpack of batteries powered by sun.

Some of us like the AI kings and queens.

Some of us brave ones cut the apron strings,

for me, Mars is out. It's you, Earth, or ash.