The Thaw Poem by Bernadette Hall

The Thaw

Rating: 5.0


Forget all
the small talk.

It's more about
Persephone

fleeing & meeting
& fleeing again

her mother's hurt
in the racked bloom

of a hoar frost,
throwing hot water

on the door lock
of the old orange car

for a quick getaway.
This is right

at the start
when the red claws

of fragrantissima
rat-a-tat-tat

on your heart
& you stand there

in the mainstreet
in Mataura

beefing on
in the flirty rain

about the lack
of a thaw

& who needs it
anyway.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ben Paynter 06 December 2016

yes. that is all i can say. wonderful words full up with meaning. keep on, bp

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