We suffer here perhaps from a bit of a geeky obsession about Mars and literature about it's future. Even by our standards, though, Gerard Woodward's long poem Ecopoesis, about the terraforming of Mars, is too weird to ignore:

[O]ne day we noticed how the air
Began to weigh heavily on us,
How we each began to feel that we
Were carrying a small child on our shoulders,
A little, grey-haired girl called
Barometric Pressure who told us
We had at last fastened the atmosphere
To the planet and that we could go
Naked for the first time in centuries.