Wednesday 15 June 2022

“Persephone Ponders” - Flash Fiction by Lynne Kemen

 


“Persephone Ponders” suggested by “Persephone” Helen Lundeberg (USA)1950

 

Persephone peers out without blinking. Six months marred by darkness; three years locked down. Time unkindly tick-tocks differently in all the halls of Hades. Flickers of sinister snickering, the recognition of blossoming, of leafing. The corpse, a contrast, half-seen in rings on Zoom.

On smart screens always seen binge-watching on-demand on sea and on land.

And Persephone? Her fleeting youth yearns to share food off another’s plate. To share a sip of wine-- touch lips in between. But Winter is harsh. It’s complicated. Unnecessary stupidity may be muted, taken off video, she leaves, leaving an avatar to suffer in her place.

 It’s torturous and tremulous, to listen, to endure unenticing voices.

 You: Pssst…come out, don’t stay, let’s play. Embrace me, running free, to sway the moon together, and dance.

Come out, uncloak and unmask, no longer the chained task of Hades.

Soft spring brings relief. Winter whipped by warmer weather, your lips pressed against new limbs. Suck the soma from those buds and smash nothing.

And Hades? He’s sitting in solitude, unloved and unpitied.

Persephone proceeds with levity. She skirts the scars of drama, ecstatically donning fuzzy socks, no leather skirts, just jammies. Netflix and chill suspended ‘til next spring, making the best of hell.

 



Lynne Kemen is a citizen of Upstate New York. Her chapbook, More Than a Handful, was published in 2020.  She is published in Silver Birch Press, The Ravens Perch, Poetica Review, Spillwords, Topical Poetry, and Blue Mountain Review. Lynne stands on the Board of Bright Hill Press. She is an Editor for the Blue Mountain Review and a lifetime member of The Southern Collective Experience.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Nine Poems by Rustin Larson

  Chet Baker   Just as a junkie would fall from a second story hotel window   in Amsterdam, I once fell from a jungle gym and hi...