Tabula Rasa

Something has set her off again
but then, she is congenitally restless
easily bored, given to dissatisfaction
with the status quo, the sameness of
things, always eager to embrace
change and freely exercise her
judgement to nip and tuck, effect
new alterations here and there. Then
there are those times when her
irritation is so piqued she chooses
to completely obliterate what
displeases her current tastes
and woe betide any who emerge in
innocence in her furious path. At 
the moment, and in this place, her
campaign has a more benevolent tenor 
than her usual indifference to the 
fate of those puny creatures she
once contrived to create in an idle
moment of curious speculation,
whose presence in her domains have
become increasingly irksome with
their absurd penchant to live
dangerously, challenging her
eminent puissance. She has decided
to simply engage in counter-irritation
expunging from view all that is
familiar to these defiant creatures
lavishing upon her landscape a
vanishing shield of deep, white snow.