Sonnets From Other Lives: Mikail

In the mirror he could see his edges soften—
a slow erosion of his sharper parts.
Reluctantly he came to see that often
old connections would grow brittle—break apart.
By perusing portents in the morning paper
he had learned to make his peace with certain doom.
Today he’ll leave the worst of it for later—
right now the urge to flee has filled this room.
He’s going to need a open sky for this—
not these walls with their vague electric hum.
Three parts solitude & one part bliss—
he steps outside & lets the moment come.

A new morning presents itself as he
moves through his small piece of eternity.