What it is

June 2010: In a desperate attempt to stave off senility, the monkey began writing a poem a day. By summer's end he'd begun to run out of versified political rants and philosophical bloviations. Then he hit on the improbable idea of writing micro fiction in the form of Elizabethan sonnets. Eureka. The birth of the "Sonnets From Other Lives" series. Two hundred plus lives later, he's still at it.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

234
Sonnets From Other Lives: Nick

It was time for them to begin heading home. A
storm would be rolling in on them soon.
Lenticular clouds over Mt. Tahoma
portending rain, a waning crescent moon
rising in the east, the signs align,
Nick thinks, hoisting his rucksack. The Alsatian
stands up, stretches & approaches. Time
to go home, Sam? Wagging in affirmation,
the dog trots down trail towards the waiting truck.
Nick follows with his geriatric lurch.
Yeah we had a good day, Sam, our luck
has held out weatherwise. This is Nick’s church--
these alpine firs, these mountains & this trail...
He means to keep this Sabbath 'til the old flesh fails.
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