|© BOREAS * J.W. Waterhouse * 1903 * Oil on Canvas|
Unusual, like glass, she's born of air.
No virgin feeling pretty dressed in white.
No echo quiet as a whispered prayer.
Her skirts flare wide, she's fit and full of fight.
She skims the plains, this fierce thelytokous,
a wild lost banshee screaming curses dark.
Inventing names within amorphous clouds
Creating sounds of drums and whistling larks.
Her pressures rise from earth's uneven heat.
The Coriolis force whorls left and right.
The moon excites her dance on tiptoed feet;
the sun augments her speed with heated light.
She skis both mountain peaks and ocean tides.
The future bends between her moving strides.
© Gay Reiser Cannon * 4.12.2012 * All Rights Reserved