Carol Frost


 


Apiary V

 

Through pears and flowers premonitions

came floating, more than light, more

than the sounds of bees. I felt my loudening heart.

 

There were moments a voice tells

which if I could keep them I will be

in a story I always know

starting with Grossmutter’s garden—gold tinged, I thought. . . .

 

I am totally alone (a space

deep as black sky, black water).

O my daughter, who

are these people? Why am I not someone

come ashore. What harbors?

Tell me. Whose whispers? Light buzzing?

I have remembered and forget.




© 2008 Electronic Poetry Review