Get Your Premium Membership

Wanting a cook

Wanting to cook the catechist refuses to use fire because every fire smells hell She made for herself A snow ball with a core Inside was hot red charcoal “Possibly I will now cook”, she murmured But hot charcoals melt away snow Face to face she was with fire The rejected became her master

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.