Poem: Hell Can Sometimes Be Frozen

 

(Bird Huddling in Frozen Tree, lcs, February 2022)

I did not sleep well last night; there was too much on my mind and in my heart. I wrote this poem in response to this morning's invasion.  (The title is also the first line of the poem.)

Hell Can Sometimes Be Frozen

like the staring vacant eyes

of an adversary

who roams the earth,

striking on a winter’s night

like a sociopath

because this kind of darkness

only functions

in absence of light.

premeditating, plotting, pilfering

from his Kremlin lair.

 

Hell can sometimes be frozen

like the nine-year-old huddled

next to his terrified yet stoic mother

in the dismal train station

somewhere in Kyiv,

crying, trembling, wincing

with the sounds of explosions.

His childhood dying

 a piece at a time,

among the pieces of shrapnel

fallen to the ground,

with each military strike.  

 

Hell can sometimes be frozen,

like the souls of an antagonist

and his cronies.

I shame them

to the frozen Hell where they emerged,

I shame them

for the frozen Hell they created,

for the citizens in all the countries,

like the child and his mother,

innocents hidden in a train station.

I just realized that

shame won’t work on those

who don’t have a conscience?

It’s a shame

their frozen souls will never feel

it’s a shame

broken souls like broken skin

may never heal

when exposed to frostbite

for too long

 

by Lori Caskey-Sigety

February 24,2022