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About this Poem 

“I like this loose sonnet of mine, unrhymed but for internals, still with a strong turn in the middle of line ten. It’s part of a series of city poems that I’m working on. This poem started, I suppose, in Astoria, Queens, near Hell’s Gate Bridge. Sibelius is a favorite composer of mine.”
Carol Frost

Song of the City at Night

Whatever hid the sun and moon inside a mountain
brought people there to found the night
where a city swans on river water
laving with light each passing wake,
mesmerizing a couple on the riverbrink.
They seem unaware what is myth
or real, taken up, as it were, by a swan’s bill
and flown to a milkwater world
where it’s possible to drink only the milk
and eat pearls. A gunshot, a siren
interrupts the quiet. Something is thrown
into the river, then the swan is mute.
To sing of this the swan would have to out-swan
itself, Sibelius out-Sibelius Sibelius.

Copyright © 2015 by Carol Frost. Used with permission of the author.

Copyright © 2015 by Carol Frost. Used with permission of the author.

Carol Frost

Carol Frost

In 1948, Carol Frost was born in Lowell, Massachusetts

by this poet

poem
     The bee-boy, merops apiaster, on sultry thundery days
      filled his bosom between his coarse shirt and his skin
                    with bees—his every meal wild honey.
     He had no apprehension of their stings or didn't mind
and gave himself—his palate, the soft tissues of his throat
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