Welcome Home

A poem about Earth, using plenty of personification, of course.

She was born with the snow swaddling her skin

The iceberg caps used to tickle her ribs

Before the sheets stopped swaying from clotheslines and

Before the smoke danced with the wind.

Ships with names and some without circled in her chest

Pine trees hugged her arms and leaned against the wind

There were charcoal-smudge birds, talking as they flew

Like ghosts at attention, on her scalp tall flowers grew.

Machines and buildings stand at her neck

People dig under her skin just to see what’s left

Her eyes are lined with soot, and our ashes and our tar

There used to be beauty that existed where we are.

The End

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