Frances Frost Poems

The midnight plane with its flying lights
looks like an unloosed star
wandering west through blue-black night
...

Oh, it will be fine
To rocket through space
And see the reverse
...

The April rain that's pelted
The early robin's head
For three gray days has threatened
...

My father's face is brown with sun,
His body is tall and limber.
His hands are gentle with beast or child
...