Kay Fletcher
Freezer
The drone of it bothered her,
she had done without a husband
and yet now she was lumbered with this,
a freezer that snored all night.
She dreamed the touch
of an ice cold hand, frost bite
desirous yet wicked,
gorging itself upon her.
She awoke on the landing,
fondling the contents of the freezer,
all those sweet things, inviolate
beneath a rind of ice,
and the joints and shanks of meat,
decent in their negligee of frost,
which was more than could be said
for herself.
Page(s) 24
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