EARLY SHIFT

By Annette Frost

Stars were still bright those mornings when I called
the cows from pasture. Scythe of moon slitting
the tree line. How a voice can echo, fall
quiet in the whisper of grass wetting

muck-boots with dew. Their bodies loomed ghost-like
on the hillside, and an ache always woke
somewhere in me when they rose at the sight
of my beckoning arms, my voice that broke

the gray. We moved slowly, a stiff parade,
shadows in the morning mist. How easy
to believe it meant something, as we made
our way, together, to the barn. Easing

the wake of night, calling them in from sleep.
I wondered who would call for me?





Annette Frost is a poet and educator. She is the director of the Favorite Poem Project and the public humanities manager at Boston University where she received her MFA in poetry. Frost’s poems can be found in such journals as Consequence Forum, 236 Magazine and Volume Poetry. She lives with her family in Acton, MA.