Snow drift, brittle and sweet, a feminist up off her knees.
Amid a swollen flag…frost reacts while trying to appease.
The land of franchised trees holds no regard to changing seas.
Only unaccountable moments of living in distant a pleasing breeze.
I am a feminist…up off her knees.
Whether my limbs be sagging unto a coarse turf…
I am the women of mother’s earth.
Pea coat in slender glove hand.
Spread before me is my land.