Poems by Carol Prost
By Carol Prost
What am I going to do? I was born when the gods had already died. Bees by Pablo Neruda
What am I going to do? I was born when the gods had already died.
at time when indifference rode the sky and everyone felt alone.
my ancestral seed was planted in a different world and
I still have those longings. I will find others
and together restring the beads of hope and compassion.
If they are not to be found, I will stay the course – alone
and do no harm ‘til my longest day has turned to night
and the still silence is my final resting place.
“Scratching Dirt”
By Carol Prost
Fat strutting chickens
contentedly cluck a song to self
with room to roam, companionship of the clutch,
sweet seeds like mana from heaven faithfully provided.
A simple peace. I breathe in… deeply
and say thank you.
“Revelry”
By Carol Prost
like a pup again
tossing her treat in the air
the old girl is back
“Umbrella Me”
By Carol Prost
protect me from the glaring sun, heat, and harmful rays,
shield me from the pelting rain’s chilly soaking to the skin
you wait patiently in the stand, by the door, forgotten until needed.
left behind in foreign places, a burden to be carried,
ever ready to break my fall, a Mary Poppins’ gentle landing.
- Carol Prost is a poet, sculptor, and painter who works at Brandeis University, primarily conducting qualitative evaluations to improve programs, service equity and access to treatment for vulnerable populations. Carol has created several large out-door installations and a sculpture exhibit highlighting social inequities. Her poetry has been published in the Author’s Publish, 2021 Poetry Marathon Anthology.
Copyright©2022 by Carol Prost. All Rights Reserved.