Funny how poems sometimes materialize from the oddest of circumstances.
Four years ago, when my wife and I were discussing possible names for our baby – who was due right at the very end of 2009 – several winter-related names popped up. Since we didn’t know if we were having a boy or a girl, Noel/Noelle, Crystal, Winter, Merry, and Janvier (French for ‘January’) all came up as potentials, although we didn’t like any of those enough to put on our “list.”
One name, however, stuck: Frost. We thought Phoebe Frost would make a beautiful name for a girl born in the winter; plus, my wife noted that it would also be apropos because of my fondness for the poetry of Robert Frost. (Being the comic book geek that I am, a reference to Emma Frost was a cool little bonus)
Fast forward to last month. We were again discussing baby names, this time for our little bundle of joy who is due to arrive this August. Since we had a little boy 3 1/2 years ago, we had to start from scratch with the boy names. The girl names, however, were all fair game – but I questioned if the name Frost would work, considering the time of year he or she will be born. One name my wife suggested was Summer Rose; when I countered with Summer Frost, a light went on. Those two words stuck in my head and refused to leave until I had written this.
“Summer Frost” may be off the baby name list, but it’s finally on paper…a poem four years in the making. For all of today’s Poetry Friday posts, please visit Ed DeCaria at Think Kid, Think!
It was unexpected.
Deep, deep in July, all humid, torrid,
when blushing Brandywines, full and ripe
hang heavy, tearing from their vines
and dragonflies dart between empty rows
where sunflowers were to grow (thank the crows),
a killing came. Subtle death
settled lightly, gently wresting life and breath
swiftly, softly, barely touching –
but with such a thing
as a summer frost
it should not
- © 2013, Matt Forrest Esenwine