Earth, always the same distance from her star,
induced no crane to migrate, lark to sing,
chorus frog to trill, violet to spring,
nor leaves to turn. The solstice was as far
as the edge where galaxies all disappear.
The sun kept glaring down, as on that shore
where, from your tower, you chose to ignore
the thing I most desired. Wasn’t it clear?
Earth didn’t tilt. Her poles were locked in glaze,
sea level never changed, and when I walked
forever round your roost, you never talked
of waves, or even sensed the sun-launched rays
till yesterday when, with a sudden lurch,
Earth tipped and threw you off your chilly perch.
*****
Martin Elster writes: “The title “Axis Denied” works in two ways. Literally, it refers to a world without axial tilt, and therefore without seasons or change. Phonetically, “axis” echoes “access”—suggesting denied emotional entry or withheld intimacy—until a sudden shift finally breaks the stasis.”
Martin Elster, who never misses a beat, was for many years a percussionist with the Hartford Symphony Orchestra. He finds contentment in long woodland walks and writing poetry that often draws on the natural world and on scientific ideas, from animal life to larger planetary and cosmic patterns. His honors include Rhymezone’s Poetry Contest (2016) co-winner, the Thomas Gray Anniversary Poetry Competition (2014) winner, the Science Fiction Poetry Association’s Poetry Contest (2015) third place, five Pushcart Prize nominations, and a Best of the Net nomination. His latest collection is From Pawprints to Flight Paths: Animal Lives in Verse (Kelsay Books).
This poem appears in Bewildering Stories #1122. His work has also appeared in the anthology Outer Space: 100 Poems (Cambridge University Press) and in the Potcake Chapbooks Careers and Other Catastrophes, Robots and Rockets, and City! Oh City!
Image: “‘SNOWBALL EARTH’ – 640 million years ago” by guano is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.
Form in Formless Times 
Apart from being a poet, and a lover of poetry (particularly sonnets) I am an oral storyteller, and when I tell the story of Persephone and how she was kidnapped by Hades, which I do, for preference at either equinox, because her six-month absence from the surface of the Earth is so clearly an explanation of the seasons, I point out how Demeter, her mother, needed more daylight to look for her, and so persuaded Helios to drive the Chariot of the Sun on a different course… but, once he had extended the day in that way, he had to make up for it by extending the night over the next six months… it’s a gradual process, as you will have noticed. For those who don’t want that explanation, I point out that the sudden impact of Hades’ chariot, as he drove straight into the Earth and down to to his dark domain was quite enough to tilt the sphere on which we live by 23 degrees, from which it has never recovered (though orange and lemon trees, in the right latitudes, still persist in the old ways, carrying blossom and fruit at the same time).
Mike Rogers
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