\ out past the dawns (a pantoum)
by Frank G. Karioris
the warp
ripped your hands
as fallow bus
routes departed
ripped your hands
on the empty shell remnants
routes departed
& all we can do is stay
on the empty shell remnants
you braved new storms
& all we can do is stay
holding out hope, tomorrows
you braved new storms
where winter was oncoming
holding out hope, tomorrows
can’t break bone so easily
where winter was oncoming
phones no longer ringing
can’t break bone so easily
so they breathe
phones no longer ringing
love wasn’t meant to live
so they breathe
will you stay here now still
love wasn’t meant to live
were you hoping for more
will you stay here now still
or did the ocean draw you out again
were you hoping for more
what do palms contain
or did the ocean draw you out again
waves don’t drown, just hold you close
what do palms contain
if the sand drifts
waves don’t drown, just hold you close
at night we make our own cover
if the sand drifts
make a beachhead & hold against the tide forthcoming
at night we make our own cover
separated from a bed & a lover & all that is left is the roar of tempests
make a beachhead & hold against the tide forthcoming
winds blow
separated from a bed & a lover & all that is left is the roar of tempests
night still
winds blow
holy
night still
cold
holy
aurora
cold
eventide.
Frank G. Karioris (he/they/him/them) is a writer and educator based in San Francisco whose writing addresses issues of friendship, gender, and class. Their work has appeared or is forthcoming in Pittsburgh Poetry Journal, Collective Unrest, Riverstone, Sooth Swarm Journal, and in the collection Eco-Justice For All amongst others. They were a W.S. Merwin Fellow at the 2023 Community of Writers Poetry Program.
