The Big Thaw

What is a list poem? This poetry style is a collection of people, places, things, ideas, or even words strung together somewhere within a poem to form a list. It is not necessary for the list to rhythm, but the words used should be memorable. I find the freedom when creating a list poem fascinating. The wordplay can be wild and free similar to Indiana weather in the early spring. Therefore, in March, I plan to write a series of list poems. I will title this one The Big Thaw.

The Big Thaw

Grey overcast sky with a hint of blue

And a ray of brilliant sunshine or two

Piles of lingering snow streaked with black

Evidence of a former snowplow attack

It takes time to melt a foot of stubborn snow

Windmills working in the distance

Giant blades spin without resistance

Red barn stripped of paint in spots by the wind

Rubble from one that didn’t survive around the bend

A barren field waits for next years crop to grow

Silver grain silos stand tall in the morning sun

A brown horse runs for the barn just for fun

A basketball hoop waits for a kid to come play

Weathered winter grass will turn green someday

The end of hibernation waits for the ground to show

An old country church built when times were hard

Crooked and leaning tombstones in a family graveyard

Electric powerlines and cell towers stretch for eternity

Beside a country road spanning as far as the eye can see

The big thaw in the Indiana countryside happens steady and slow

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

Be sure to follow Molly on Twitter!

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Published by henhouselady

I am the author of Saving the Hen House. I didn't know when I started it would turn into a series. I love to ride motorcycles, the blues, my family, and going on adventures. This old hen rocks.

4 thoughts on “The Big Thaw

  1. I love the imagery and rhyme scheme in this poem — as well as the sense that spring is arriving in Indiana. My favorite line is “Evidence of a former snowplow attack…” It reminds me of a bunch of bushes I saw yesterday which were bent over under one of those huge piles of slowly melting snow (“streaked with black”) at the edge of a school parking lot.

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