Something Gold Has Come

by Cody Adams

To Robert Frost

Wintry centuries smother us with gray,

but the bare trees swear, “Nothing gray can stay.”

Frostbit hands stack bricks o’er the dead and quick—

mausoleums cave under sins stacked thick.

Through tumored-tongues do hope-soaked rumors spread;

sperse whispers of a raising of the dead.

Behold: Eden’s grief undone.

At last, something gold has come.

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Cody Adams teaches high school literature in Toronto, ON. His recent writing has appeared in Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Defenestration, Ekstasis Magazine, Cacti Fur, among others. He also serves as a Board Member for Forefront Festival.