Thaw

Abstract

Thaw Jihyun Yun (bio) Suddenly, it is winter again. The cold came on as an unwanted lover, spread its snake belly on our floor and wouldn't leave. Grandma said, "We'll set the house to burning," Brandished heat lamps and hot tea, but never fire. Even so, the cold stayed, opened every drawer in every room, cracked our glass wares, wrapped a chrysalis of frost around any hanging thing. Once or twice, it laughed with its mouthful of root black teeth. When threats failed, we appeased with hyacinth persimmons on celadon plates, roast chestnuts, yams, the special kind of deference only the daug ters and wives of war-bruised men know how to give. But still, we shivered, sleet over carpets, clinging to lashes. It came to midJune. The branches of our bodies laid bare, the hard bark curling back. No living thing can only thrive. And here, we begin again. Somewhere, a fawnnoses the frozen turf,unearths the first budof the season [End Page 73] Jihyun Yun Jihyun Yun is a Korean-American poet. A Fulbright Fellow, she received her MFA from NYU. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Bat City Review, Poetry Northwest, and elsewhere. She currently lives in Michigan where she is working on her first poetry collection Some are Always Hungry. Copyright © 2019 University of Wisconsin Board of Regents