Carol Frost

June 9, 2015 Frost Carol



Cockroaches ignored the winter dawn

lengthening past spring and into summer.

They hid and scarcely saw that we were gone,


but died less frequently from nerve poison

and ruby dust, more often in nature.

Cockroaches ignored the winter dawn


that cooled the buildings. Where spiders spun

their icy webs in icier zephyrs,

they starved and didn’t know that we were gone.


Sidewalks heaved, sewers split, bridges came down,

freezing and thawing in long November.

The hard structure of their world in winter dawn


disintegrated, and goose grass, autumn

olive trees, birch, bear, wolf took over

everywhere. The cockroaches were soon gone.


We are like cockroaches of autumn

burrowing more deeply and unaware

in heated cities of the cold dawn

when all we’ve had will be gone.

Carol Frost has new poems in Solstice, A Magazine of Diverse Voices; in the anthology In the Shape of a Human Body, I am Visiting the Earth; and on the Academy American Poetry website Poem-A-Day.