Good Kindling ~ Poems by Virginia Lee Sprague

Winter Play

The sun feels the quickening of days,

As a body feels a boa's tightening grip,

Constricting her celestial fire,

Tugging her from her offspring, the earth,

She becomes a tethered mother,

Straining for her child,

As the boa icily hisses, "Wait...wait",

"Your child must be colder, darker, silent for a time."

In March, the boa tires of restraining the sun,

It wearies of her wails to warm the earth,

The snake releases and Solar snorts her warmth,

As she trots toward the frozen planet.

In April, her breathing becomes deeper, softer,

As she moves closer to the cold and shaken terrain,

Sighing in relief, she croons to Terra,

"I am here. I am with you now,

Until the next time of capture and separation."