Once
They came
once, a people we didn’t believe in
warriors across a horizon
colourless with war
They fought
once, but they bled alone
and we didn’t realize until afterward
that they had tried to save us
They left
once, and we remained behind
holding the spears they had brought
warriors forged in apology
They were remembered
once, as the half-truth of legends, embers
that glimmered beneath the shadowed flames of oppression
—Freedom, Safety, Respect, Love—hopes
held tight like talismans, close to the hearts of the young
When I Loved Her
the cataclysm of stars, ricocheted
to the saffron, sienna, swirling
abyss; but I, I stood still
somehow, the eye
took me whole, and I
knew my fate
When I knew her
in a dance of her making, I
watched to see, if
—divergence and reunion, sing
my feet were always hers and
all I knew were eyes
that captured me
When I missed her
I watched leaves fall
twirling, twisting, toppling
dead; and I stood, staring
looking, but never finding
that map, that explanation
she always gave
When I remembered her
I remembered a storm
a blurring gale, staggering
a light, through the rain
something always, there
beside me, taking my hand
and following
When I remembered me
I couldn’t remember how
I ever came out, but then I never
walked in: the storm came to me
and I wanted and I was
a part, but then I stood
in silence
Sapphire
Sapphire eyes pierce
my memories as my actual
vision blurs with tears and
stings with sweat and I strike
the shovel into gravelly
soil and wonder how
someone who was so alive
could be dead
About Frances Koziar
Frances Koziar is predominantly a fiction writer with 10+ publications in literary magazines, and she is seeking an agent for a diverse NA/YA fantasy novel. Her poetry has most recently appeared in Breath and Shadow and an anthology by the Poetry Institute of Canada (Award of Excellence). She is an Aztec archaeologist and anthropologist and lives in Kingston, Ontario, Canada.
Author website: https://franceskoziar.wixsite.com/author