Sarah Frost is a poet based in New York City. She is constantly searching the world for bits of everyday magic, and thinks of her poems as time capsules containing what she’s found. 

Standard

it’s a dash of this, two people grasping for the glimmer 
in one another’s eyes, and that, a setting overflowing with 
magnetic force. 
I stare at the ceiling reviewing the experiment: 
back against a Lower East Side wall, 

Equation

Neither glue nor embroidery thread nor sutures can contain
a thing this sour, soot spilling from my depths, unexpected
and with such force it seems endless, always, always—
until it catches my eye, someday, a faint glimmer

sarahjfrost

Selected work