top of page

"Wandering Still", "A Summer Road", "The Tower"...by Frances Koziar




Wandering Still


The waves roll

against an empty shore,

each one strong and steady

and painful, the sand grating

like life across my skin.

Here we stand, years

gone by, dreams like storybooks

from half-remembered

childhoods, nothing

how we once hoped

it would be.


Wandering still, my feet

carry me here again

and again, just

as they carry me through life, plodding

along like some faithful old mule, despite

my questioning that faith

with each step, that reason for walking forward

when all I know

is behind.


Grief is the good days:

it is sorrow for something good,

remembering something good.

It is the nothing that hits harder:

the lack, the emptiness,

the too many reasons to stop.


And yet—I return here:

I look out at that horizon,

memories fading like morning fog

in the sharp light of day.

I walk, step after step

in the roaring silence


and wonder still.




A Summer Road


This road is cracked: baked

so long in the sun, flies

buzzing languidly; the bushes

spark green

against the heat. Footsteps

steady below me, quietly:

like promises made to the sunrise, yet spoken

more surely

than a name. I wonder


if the air I breathe remembers

other travellers, pilgrims

set upon the same path for different

reasons, winding

through the trees, never knowing

what the end looks like or even

if there is one. Dirt


sifts in the breeze, light

as whispers; leaves tremble

before the passing of a truth, the passing

of one more set of weary

feet, sandals dark

with road dust but sturdy,

yet. I walk,


searching

for the glimmer of water, wondering

at the questions I have asked, feeling

for the heartbeat

of home.




The Tower


The tower stones

beneath me are cold

as death, crumbling

and forgotten, shaped

by the wind that grasps

at my clothing with bony

fingers, whistling

through the cracks

in us both.


The trees shift and sway

around us; the sky

a cauldron of churning

mercury. I brush

rough lichen with the soft pads

of my fingers, and wait,

not knowing who or what

I wait for.


No life rings

its footsteps on the ashy

stairs snaking up, no

hope sifts out

of the gathering dark

like sand beneath a desert

sunrise; I listen

for answers or assurances in this place

of ruin, but all I hear

are whispers: apologies

never spoken, and promises

lost to the echoes

of the past.



A Summer’s Day


Lovers walk / shining

like exotic

butterflies / shimmering

in the sunshine

of a perfect

day. Manicured


gardens segment / the park

beyond;

laughter / is paired

in couplets / like

the birds / flitting

above. A low


stone wall / marks

the beginning / of dappled

shade, of the old

watching / the young, of

me / waiting

by a stone / for only

one.




Growing Up


My bracelet says Believe:

not

Believe in yourself or

Believe humans

can be good. I


stutter and stop, stumble

and run a few

steps, always

questioning

whether a path so strange

could be real

or worth it.


I believed

in goodness

once, a fairy tale

to hold onto

through the long years

of abandonment. Believe


I didn’t need to tell myself

then. Believe

back then

was the air

I breathed, not


the bracelet I wore.




FRANCES KOZIAR has published over 70 poems in 40+ different literary magazines, including Vallum, Acta Victoriana, and Dreamers Magazine. She is a young (disabled) retiree and a social justice advocate, and she lives in Kingston, Ontario, Canada. Author website: https://franceskoziar.wixsite.com/author

Comments


bottom of page