Fever

This poem was written in October of '07, when it seemed like the whole country was aflame with wildfires.

Tonight California burns

Santa Anna using it as

the fire for her cauldron

she sets shimmering, sends

out in a purifying rage

It brings to mind

swealtering summer days

in Florida, ash dancing on the wind

like snowflakes through

draught-stricken gulf cities

and now, in fall, as

winter approaches we

sit, parched, La Nina

promising record raping

high tempuratures

a fever on our corner of the earth

(When, in our collective minds can we remember the weather being consistent, prime time news?)

These weather warrior women

wringing the water of life

from their very wombs

wreaking havoc

waging war

looking to cleanse us from the land