Today's poem is by Ron Carlson
All right, we agree, a snowball gets to hell.
We don't know how, we just know it is there,
in hell. Maybe some sinner died skiing
with a snowball in his pocket and there it is,
assuming that your clothes go to hell with you
which is a huge discussion in itself. Some bad
guy's bad heart quits while he's at the symphony
and he gets to show up in hell in a tux,
while the rest of us appear in cut off levis
and the upper half of a football jersey.
Regardless though, the snowball is in hell.
What could happen to it? A tender globe
of snow? There we are blinking in the inferno,
suddenly burning the way we knew we would,
none of us is surprised by this hot place,
the fire everywhere as promised,
and the stinging smoke almost familiar.
Forged in the instant is a certainty
that we will feed these flames forever.
Now we understand the strange phenomena
It still has a chance.
Copyright © 2012 Ron Carlson All rights reserved
from Room Service
Red Hen Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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