Mother Earth
Has a face of stone
Not without expression
Happy tears, sad snows, angry squalls
That fall from clouds
Formed from her children’s breath
All our breaths into wind
That is her voice
Her ears can hear
Mosquitos mate in perfect fifths
But the voice of Father Hertz
She loves the most
And here we are on planet earth
In our nursery
Hearing their lullabies
But not the symphony