Sonnet for the Moment

Vulcan raged in the Vikings’ realm
to grasp at Thor’s almighty bolt.
The lava formed a fiery gem,
to lay before the gods at court.

The ash rose like a billowed stair
on which to climb a threatened sky.
It tainted even Berenice’s Hair
and taunted men who wished to fly.

From the New World a second plume
arose from man’s most reckless chores.
It forged a black and odorous tomb
and left the sea a rotting corpse.

Poseidon’s loving waters gave birth
to the poison that covered o’er the Earth.

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