Persephone's lament, Early Spring,
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I cannot think with all this color burning around me. A pyre of yellow forsythia swallows its branches. Scarlet tulips flame out of the earth; amber carp swim under the black water like sparks under a kettle. The rosy magnolia still smolders after the morning's bleached fog dissipates. Even in the narrow bands of blue before the moon ignites, the heavy gray of smoke burns my nose. I open the window to let the air in. It is not color I hate, but its dying. |
Sarah A. Etlinger is an English professor who lives in Milwaukee, WI, with her family. A Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee, she is the author of three books. You can find more of her work in Pank!, SWWIM, FEED Literary, and others.