03-20-2026, 10:26 PM
Southern Riddle
You, World, if this is your Aunt Arctica,
so frigid, little-warmed by summer light,
who births out ice floes from her endless lap
of shelving Ross, mother of giant birds
with customs nearly mad as those of men–
cold Auntie, nationless, rejecting all,
adorned with flags too cowed to stake a claim...
if she’s your aunt, World, who's your uncle, then?
(In blitz poetry, the better idea always comes a minute late.
)
You, World, if this is your Aunt Arctica,
so frigid, little-warmed by summer light,
who births out ice floes from her endless lap
of shelving Ross, mother of giant birds
with customs nearly mad as those of men–
cold Auntie, nationless, rejecting all,
adorned with flags too cowed to stake a claim...
if she’s your aunt, World, who's your uncle, then?
(In blitz poetry, the better idea always comes a minute late.
)
Non-practicing atheist

