9/6
Sonnets From Other Lives: Sean
I catch the #7--head downtown--
watch the drowsy city waking up.
My love is dozing under eiderdown.
I'm nursing coffee in a paper cup--
greedy for the lightness of this day.
What if the children queued at St. Jude's door
could hear what mornings like this have to say
about the promise every moment holds in store?
Old woman in a window looks across
the street and waits for life to pass her by.
Old Indian on the corner looking lost.
Commuters board. No one meets my eye
.
I am burning with this memory:
The girl that I love gave herself to me.
Sonnets for Other Lives. I've pretty well used up the poetic inspirations from my philosophical insights, editorial rants and personal woes.
ReplyDeleteI'm going to spend some time writing the inner monologues of imaginary characters as Shakespearian sonnets for a while.