Two Poems

by Sharon Berg



Sahara Snow

 

Imagine being there to see

the first snow to fall in the Sahara Desert

in nearly 40 years

 

It dusted the dunes near Ain Sefra, Algeria

like sugar sprinkled on orange cake

 

The first snow in the Atlas Mountains

since February 18, 1979 formed swirls

of white on high dunes of apricot sand

 

Snow falling at the Gateway to the Desert

on December 19, 2016 belies

 

the 37 degree Celsius summer heat

while northern icecaps melt, demonstrating

the reach of global weather chaos

 

Breaking with prior weather patterns, snow

fell in 2017, 2018, 2021 and 2022.

 

In fact, 2018, saw more than 30 cm, though

Sahara is one of the hottest, driest deserts on earth

and snow requires both cold and moisture to form.

 

It happens again in February 2023, just

as the world begins to accept climate change.

Rock and Blueberries, Sudbury 1988

 

Rock juts out awkwardly here

a graceless jumble, planes of granite and basalt

with little soil to smooth the rough edges

Glaciers retreated so recently

I can still feel their presence

under the footsteps of Anishinaabeg tribes

No more do towering trees inhabit this place

though once they lived as cousins to the people

who continue to assert their presence and identity

by reviving a language and culture born

here, in this specific territory

 

As I walk the hills above this town

I consider the teaching, Language is born on

the land. How can a language as violently

suppressed as this one grow back

in a place bearing the scars of industry?

How can the land recover its voice

in this place where wisps of soil support

bursts of vegetation that wedge

into every crack and fissure of rock

the once rich soils having been blown off

as the plants that once grew here let go?

 

This landscape rests almost barren

the acid rains staining flesh pink granite black

This territory was used by American Astronauts

as training ground for their 1969 moon walk

No trace remains of the white oak congregations

In many places only moss and lichen cover

bare rocks with lacey filigree. Yet, on this hill

fresh winds are circulating. Aspen, birch

and willow saplings begin to claim

what the INCO mines once buried

under toxic slag heaps.

 


As I walk here, birds start their chitter

flitting branch to branch, poetry

in the motion of their flight and sound

Chest-high trees have gathered in small groups

their roots entangled with fungal networks

like a bass whisper to support soprano birdsong

Young trees sway and rub limbs in noisy alto hugs

a punctuation for the rhyming of insects

in their gathering calls, each one claiming

territory or announcing their assembly

in tiny patches of grass

 

Around me are the watchers and listeners

the knowing and entreating, the mindful entities that

have never given up on their journey to prosper

Underneath their biological resurgance which

reflects the beginning of life on this planet

is an energy that rises to support all born to find

their voice here And I am made witness, minute

by minute, to language being born through the

ever-so-intimate relationships we carve out with

the insects and grass, our cousins the trees, worms

creatures of fur and bone, and the others that fly —

 

On this hill a crowd resides in their full voice as I open

myself to the multitude that resonate here Just now

I heard the whisper of a plant that called out

I turned, responding to a voice directed at me

to discover its green waxy leaves like a giggle

in the sun by a jut of rock, branches holding clusters

of blue fruit high though the plant hugs the ground

I am here, I am here, it called, and its leaves

were a perfect smile as I hesitated Eat me

it insisted, and so we began to communicate

in phrases that belong to this very place




BIO: Sharon Berg’s work appears in Canada, USA, Mexico, England, Wales, Amsterdam, Germany, Romania, India, Singapore, and Australia. Her poetry includes To a Young Horse (Borealis 1979), The Body Labyrinth (Coach House 1984), and three poetry chapbooks (2006, 2016, 2017) Stars in the Junkyard (Cyberwit 2020) was a 2022 International Book Award Finalist. Her short story collection is Naming the Shadows (Porcupine’s Quill 2019). The Name Unspoken: Wandering Spirit Survival School (BPR Press 2019) won a 2020 IPPY Award for Regional Nonfiction. She’s Resident Interviewer for tEmz Review (London, ON, Canada) and operates Oceanview Writers Retreat out of Charlottetown, Newfoundland, Canada.

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