Persephone is Knocking

by lisa st john

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Persephone is Knocking

There is something so fragile about spring. The little kid part of me that believed in fairies also sometimes believes that spring will never come—that we are doomed to grey snowpiles and ice-cracked puddles forever. Maybe I just watched too much Twilight Zone as a kid.

But April is a fierce beast too, hence the paradox. I have seen crocuses and daffodils bust right through leaves and snow and winter and announce their arrival with bravado. But the cold breezes—right through the sunlight—still whisper winter in the air.

Everything that was covered up for months comes out to haunt and tease and say, “You thought you got rid of me? Ha.” There is no hiding from spring. Leaf piles that never got raked, dog turds and cigarette butts, broken glass and moments too resonant to stay buried come back in spring. IMG_4309

Jeffrey McDaniel said, “There’s something incredibly honest about trees in winter, how they’re experts at letting things go.” There is something sneaky about spring. She makes you believe in summer while letting winter’s frost in through the back door. Come on up Persephone. You must be starving.

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You can buy my first chapbook of poetry HERE at Finishing Line Press. It’s called Ponderings.

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