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  Jan 2018 Raven Frost
Jonathan Witte
Once you’ve gone
what more is there
to say about leaving

or, for that matter,
the impermanence
of measured words.

All I can do is stand
alone in the backyard
and listen to the wind.

A late frost killed
the magnolia buds

and the forsythia
never materialized.

And so I wait for the worms
to begin their earthy work.

I wait for the pink moon
to rise above the rooftops.

I wait for the smell of mock orange
and the blue of a broken robin’s egg.

But most of all
I wait for your
words to bloom,

to tell me, finally,
that spring is here—

that the gardens we tend to
have something more to say.
Raven Frost Jan 2018
Our young love is a perfect flower
Pressed between the pages of a book
You can take it out and you can remember
How sweet the scent was with a simple look

Put it back
Don't be sad
Everything falls prey to time

You and I are sitting in the glade
Where our flower once blossomed and died
Did you feel the ground shake when the roots took shape
Or did you still mourn the flower and cried?

Feel the bark
Lift you eyes
See our love against the sky
#poetry #poem #love #marriage
Raven Frost Jan 2018
There is a ghost inside my house
You won't see it
You won't hear it
It clings to me
My hands
My heart
It tries to tear my life apart

There is a ghost under my skin
I'm not this girl
I do not scream
Get out
Get out!
It isn't me
I love you softly, silently

I try to tell you everything
The ghost, the girl, the haunted heart
But you are gone
You did get out

There is a ghost
Don't touch my heart
Raven Frost Jan 2018
Yellow winter sun
Warms my face, it is
Forever in the dark
The only light it sees
Yet it burns, lingers
Before it disappears

See me smile, at rest
Eyes closed against the heat
Look closer, I am
Forever in the dark
Just a spark, burning
Before I disappear

— The End —