Summer – Janet Frame

Focus on Frame



Summer – Janet Frame

At midday then the sweltering mother
bedded in wheat and wharves rose
to give food
gold sea and salt bread to the city.

Deep from her blue apron pocket
she drew a ripe orange to slice
and squirt light
- your mouth was stained with sun.

Some will be for burning – Janet Frame

Some will be for burning, not all.
In the deep sky trees may lean, and men,
to take their hot gold coin, and some,
not all, will be for burning.

In autumn many trees have ashes for leaves;
the willow and the silver poplar
have paid the penalty of fire
no creek or soft rain will smother.



I found these poems in an old poetry anthology from school. Unfortunately there isn't a reference for where they originally came from.